


Young Love Is Just A Dream

by ladyfnick



Category: Original Work
Genre: Band Fic, Boys being oblivious, Enemies to Lovers, Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Reality TV, Teenage Drama, Unresolved Sexual Tension, an unapologetic love letter to early 2000s pop punk, and adult drama too, and other music genres, rating for a single scene in the second chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-09-24 14:35:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 49,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9763514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyfnick/pseuds/ladyfnick
Summary: Arial Brown had mostly, kind of, not really, put his past behind him. But when the opportunity to mess with his ex-best friend come up, he jumps at the chance.However, on set for The Star Project, the most popular singing competition on TV, things start to change and he begins to question what he really wants, and what really happened to drive him and Miles Eliot apart.





	1. You can take back your memories, they're no good to me

_Present Day_

“You with the hair, come with me,” his boss’s supervisor, TJ said, his head poking through the lounge door.

Baby Simon, Vince, Arial and even hulking, Russian, mountain in the form of a man, Jhono leapt to their feet guiltily, trying to hide what they’d been doing from TJ, but he was already out the door. Apparently, whatever he wanted had nothing to do with the dart board Jhono had snuck in, or the picture of their Justin Beiber Baby Simon had taped to it. Or the devil horns barely visible on the torn-up picture that Vince had drawn on it.

“But we all have hair,” Baby Simon stage whispered to Vince.

“I think he means Arial,” Vince snorted, tugging on one errant lock of Arial’s blonde hair. Arial smacked his hand away out of habit. He’d kept meaning to have it cut, but kept forgetting, and it had gotten out of control, nearly past his shoulders when he didn’t keep it tied up.

“I swear to god if you sent anyone prank emails using my email address again, I will murder you,” Arial grumbled at Baby Simon and grabbed his bag. They’d been having an extended lunch since the musician they’d been supposed to work with hadn’t shown up. There had been other things they’d been supposed to work on in spare time, but the dartboard featuring a picture of preteen Justin Beiber’s face had seemed a lot more interesting. The picture only looked like Beiber if you’d been at the company since the early 2000s, but that didn’t stop it being a source for cheap entertainment.

In the hallway, TJ was nearly at the end by the elevator and was glowering back towards Arial impatiently.

“Sorry,” Arial said, once he’d caught up. He hesitated and then asked in the politest tone he could manage, “Sorry, but what’s this about?” He definitely felt more than a little intimidated, he’d only spoken to TJ once before when he’d been hired, and clearly the man didn’t remember him, if he didn’t know what Arial’s name was.

“Not too sure,” TJ said and shrugged casually. “Upstairs sent me down to get you since you don’t have a cellphone on file. They figured I’d know where to find you.”

Despair sunk through Arial’s gut like a stone. What in God’s name would anyone _above_ his boss’s supervisor want with him? He was just a small-time session musician, and not one in high demand for that matter.

POP Records was one of the biggest music conglomerates in the country, and had one of the largest stables of musicians. There were a fair number of hit makers, a few more indie bands, and then a significant number of session artists and technical guys who worked behind the scenes. Guys like Arial who played instruments for non-charting songs were a dime a dozen in company the size of POP Records. He’d never even touched a song that had approached anything like a hit. A true nobody, a cog in the wheel.

And yet there he was, being summoned by the big guys upstairs.

What in god’s name had Baby Simon done and then blamed him for?

The elevator ride was terrifyingly long- Arial nearly fainted from fear when he noticed that TJ had selected the 41st floor, near the top of the building.

“Don’t worry, you aren’t in trouble,” TJ told Arial once they exited the elevator.

“Right, sure,” Arial croaked, only getting even more worried.

TJ led him down the warren of hallways into a _literal corner office_ which did nothing to soothe his frazzled nerves. Nor did the sharply dressed woman sitting behind the desk.

“Found him,” TJ said and flopped casually onto one of the uncomfortable chairs in front of the desk.

Arial much more cautiously crossed the room and perched on the second chair, feeling like he needed to be able to book it out of the room at a moment’s notice, just in case someone realized they had the wrong person.

“Excellent,” the woman said. Her eyes flicked down to a file, presumably Arial’s. “I’m Danielle Singh, it’s a pleasure to meet you A- Arial.” She stumbled slightly, a minute crease appearing on her forehead.

“Mom’s an English Lit professor, she was way into _The Tempest_ right before I was born,” Arial explained.

Ms. Singh smiled politely, and said, “Fascinating. Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice.”

“Uh,” Arial said, floundering, then gave up and just laid his cards on the table. “What exactly is this meeting about, Ms. Singh? TJ said I wasn’t in trouble, but...”

“You certainly aren’t in trouble, you have an excellent track record with POP Records, if you’ll pardon the pun,” Ms. Singh said. “It’s more something I was hoping you could help us with.” She slid another file across her desk. It was an intimidatingly thick file.

Hesitantly, Arial picked it up. The front of the folder read _The Star Project! Season 3_.

“We had a contestant drop out at the last minute. Filming is set to start in four days, and your name came up as a substitute,” Ms. Singh explained.

Arial flipped the file open, frowning. He was a nobody, why would he be asked... His eyes landed on the name of the band participating and he knew in an instant.

_The Star Project_ was a reality TV show whose purpose was to find a replacement member for semi-popular bands. Shockingly enough, the two bands featured in the first two seasons had actually gone on to have mild success. It was a wildly popular show, possibly due to the fact that all contestants were preselected from pools of people already involved in the industry, session musicians, small fry indie band members, or hometown heroes never heard of outside of that single location. All people of some small measure of repute and extreme talent, who had the experience and talent to launch them into the big leagues without much threat of burnout.

Arial hadn’t been picked for any of those reasons.

It was because he knew the front man of the band that was going to be featured that season.

“I don’t understand,” Arial said a little numbly. “I didn’t know Stress in Idleness was missing a member.”

The band was significantly bigger than the indie pop band from the first season, or the girl group from the second season. Like a lot bigger. They had to be nuts to agree to star on a reality TV show, even a popular one.

The band had been formed during the wave of pop punk bands in the early 2000s, and like its compatriots had faded somewhat from the popular consciousness, but still put out popular albums and was beloved by teenagers and fans from their earlier days alike. They might not have been the chart-smashing band they’d once been, but they were hardly the small-time success like the other bands on _The Star Project_.

“It hasn’t been announced yet,” Ms. Singh explained. “But the lead guitarist and backup vocalist, Monroe Reynolds has decided to leave the band as his wife is expecting a baby.”

“I... see,” Arial said slowly. He’d never met Monroe, having been long gone by that point. But he’d known Miles for years, Felix for a few months. The other two band members were also strangers to him. “And does the band know about me participating?”

Ms. Singh didn’t answer right away, then said, “I don’t believe so. But they aren’t informed of any of the names of the contestants, to make sure they’re impartial judges.”

Arial gave her a flat look and bit back saying _yeah that’s why you haven’t told them, totally not a dick move._ Instead he said, “Right. Well I assume there’s forms for me to sign, right?”

Never let it be said that Arial Brown ever backed down from a chance to punch Miles Eliot in the face, even if he’d be the most fired person in existence.

“So how fired are you?” Baby Simon asked when Arial appeared in their preferred studio hours later, hand cramping from so much paperwork and a stack of papers detailing his contract an inch thick stuffed in his bag.

“I’m incredibly not fired?” Arial said, feeling a little dazed. “Like the opposite of fired. I kinda got a promotion. But not really. I’m not allowed to tell anyone about it right now, though,” Arial added when Vince and Baby Simon frowned at him in confusion.

“Okay man,” Baby Simon said easily, rolling with it. “Let’s get to work now that you’re not fired.”

Arial picked up his guitar and somehow felt like he was sixteen again. It wasn’t the most pleasant feeling.

_~_

_Sophomore Year_

_Summer_

“Play that again,” Miles demanded, shifting to a more comfortable spot on Ari’s bed. It was a futile effort, Ari swore his bed was 90% springs.

“Which part?” Ari asked, shifting his guitar into a better position in his lap. His thigh was going a little numb with Miles’ legs flung across his own for the last hour. Ari didn’t move an inch, feeling like a creep for enjoying the contact and the warmth that radiated from him.

“The part that goes _dah_ dah _dah_ ,” Miles said.

Ari rolled his eyes at his best friend. “Right. That part. _Obviously._ ” He ducked the pillow Miles tossed at him, curling around his baby protectively. His mom had relented and finally bought it for him two years previous and if anyone ever scratched the red paint on it, much less broke it, Ari would probably kill them with his bare hands.

“Come on jerk, hurry up, we’re getting some good shit done, but your mom will be home,” Miles said, gesturing at the clock on Ari’s bedside table. “I am not getting tossed out on my ass for being too noisy. Once was enough for me.”

“Okay, okay,” Ari laughed and shifted his fingers against the frets, absently wondering what it would feel like if it was Mile’s arm, or cheek or maybe his- Ari quickly shut that thought off and cursed being a teenage and started to play.

Miles started to hum along, then singing the lyrics, knocking his shoulders into Ari’s playfully and nudging him until Ari sang along, the words punching him in the gut like they had every other time, “ _Whoa oh, why do I put myself in these situations?_ ”

~

_Present Day_

“All contestants are to prepare a song to perform during the first episode,” one of the show’s producers explained to the gathered contestants sitting in a conference room. “You’ll be filmed performing a cover of any song of your choosing in front of the band. You’ll have three days to prepare in our practice areas here, but the goal is to have it appear like preparation takes place over the course of a single day. There are a few individual soundproofed rooms to practice in, and time spent in those will be strictly restricted so everyone has an equal amount of time in them.”

Arial didn’t even feel like rolling his eyes. They hadn’t even started filming and the plasticity of the whole show had already started to seem matter-of-fact just from dealing with filming the promotional material used for commercials and the opening credits. The dozen odd other people seated around him looked like they were in the same boat.

“You may _not_ perform any of Stress in Idleness’s songs, or any songs of your own creation, but you may pick a song from any genre of music,” the producer continued, flipping through a sheaf of papers. Arial nearly snorted, like anyone would pick something that didn’t match the band’s genre.

“As filming is over three days, all of you must wear and style your hair the same way during all three days of filming. Failing to do so will result in disqualification. Contacting anyone outside without permission, or providing any information on the events of the show will also result in disqualification in addition to legal action.” The producer paused and eyed them all up, like she was expecting one of them to complain, then continued, “Are there any questions?”

Arial considered the jeans and t-shirt he was wearing and the starting to get gross split ends his hair was splintering into and wished he’d taken a bit more care with how he looked. His shirt was already on its fourth day and wasn’t the freshest smelling.

Ultimately though, it didn’t really matter. Even if he got eliminated right out of the gate, all that mattered was that he got to see Miles’ dumbstruck face when he saw Arial onstage.

He was going to make him suffer like Miles had made him suffer as teenagers. He definitely wasn’t petty or bitter or holding onto a grudge far longer than a rational adult would.

“Hey, any idea what you’ll pick?” Alice, one of the other contestants, asked him as they all filed out of the conference room to head to the studio area to start being filmed. Arial had heard of her even before filming promo material: she was a small-time singer/songwriter without any hits, but with an album that was pretty popular on college radio stations. She was exceptionally talented and pretty and was yet another musician that should have made it big and yet hadn’t due to bad luck.

She was also basically the norm among the contestants- Miles was probably the biggest unknown with the least amount of buzz to his name. When he’d mentioned that he was a studio musician and hadn’t ever released any of his own music and hadn’t been really looking to make it big, he’d garnered more than a few side-eyed looks.

Arial shrugged. “Not sure. I have a few favourites, but not sure what I’ll pick. You?”

“I’ve been prepping songs for this show ever since I heard I was going to be on here,” Alice said, like it was strange that Arial hadn’t. Which, it probably was, given everyone was there to win and Arial was just there to give a middle finger to Miles Eliot.

“I didn’t have all that much time for that,” Arial said when Alice wouldn’t stop giving him funny looks. “I was sort of a last-minute addition, someone had to drop out a few days before filming for promos started.”

“That explains a lot,” Grayson muttered under his breath, though clearly meant for Arial and Alice to hear him given how he shouldered past Arial roughly.

“Ugh, what’s his problem?” Alice grumbled.

Arial shrugged, not too bothered. Grayson was basically ten years old, he’d made a couple exceptionally popular YouTube videos of covers of popular songs. If someone was going to be an ass to him, at least it was an actual child. If it were an adult, it would be just plain embarrassing for everyone involved.

In the studio, cameras were already rolling, capturing all of the contestants spreading out across the room and picking up various instruments, some provided by the show as part of the product placement, but most brought by the contestants themselves.

Arial had brought two of his own guitars, the first guitar he’d bought with his own money and his faithful companion, the one his mom had gotten him as a teenager. Its red paint had chipped off and it probably didn’t sound quite as good as his other more expensive guitar, or the even fancier ones provided by the show, but it felt comforting and familiar under his fingers.

His fingers automatically started move, nothing in particular, just noodling, something that happened whenever he touched an instrument.

From the corner of the room, Arial heard a few familiar notes.

~

_Sophomore Year_

_Fall_

“Like, we’re really going to make it,” Miles declared with the authority of the very, very drunk. He punctuated this by poking Ari in the cheek. Ari, being equally drunk, started to giggle uncontrollably and pretended to try to bite his finger, then accidentally succeeded.

“Ouch, you dick!” Miles said and then playfully hit Arial with his balled-up hoodie. This prompted Ari to hit him back and the wrestled playfully across the bed, until one of Miles’ uncoordinated feet knocked their ill-gotten beer onto the floor. It spilled half-flat beer across the floor, prompting both boys to leap from the bed and frantically try and clean it up before it touched anything important- textbooks, Ari’s laptop, Miles’s brand new amp.

Crisis averted, the both flopped back onto the bed. It was bigger and more comfortable than Ari’s, but they ended up slumped side to side anyways. Ari tried to not revel in the warmth he felt from Miles being pressed against him shoulder to ankle, but failed. The beer he’d consumed over the course of the evening prevented him from feeling too guilty, which was a nice change.

“I’m serious,” Miles said, like there hadn’t been any interruptions. “We’re gonna make it. We’ll be stars.”

Ari rolled his eyes. “Right, we’ll be the next Fall Out Boy, you just watch.”

“We’ll be _bigger_ ,” Miles insisted and then gave Ari a heart attack by sitting up and rolling his body to straddle Ari’s waist.

_Not now, boner_ , Ari thought frantically. His hands were sweaty in an instant, and he knew his face was already blotchy with a blush he didn’t think he could blame on the beer or the unseasonably warm Indian summer night.

“Miles! What-”

“I’m serious!” Miles repeated adamantly. “I’m not letting you up until you agree with me!”

“Ugh, get off!” Ari said, smacking at Mile’s legs ineffectual, trying to play off his _extreme_ attraction as irritation.

“Nope!” Miles said with an obnoxiously exaggerated grin, and the _pinned Ari’s arms to the bed above his head_.

Ari was so flushed and startled it was basically like an out of body experience, like he was watching someone else with a marked similarity to him being pinned to the bed by Miles. Ari had never hated being sixteen more than he had in that moment. He’d never hated _having a dick_ more than he had in that moment. He wanted to die. Well, he wanted Miles to go away so he could jerk off and come harder than he ever had in his short life and _then_ die of shame and guilt and embarrassment. And then maybe go again a few more times for good measure.

“It’s like positive reinforcement or whatever your mom calls it,” Miles said, apparently oblivious to the _extreme discomfort_ he was causing Ari. “If you don’t believe it, it won’t come true. Now say it: we’re going to make it big.”

“Miles, get off me, you’re crushing my lungs!” Ari hissed, helplessly, hopelessly hard in his jeans and praying to every deity on the planet that Miles didn’t notice. They were both teenage boys, awkward boners happened, but never when Miles was _literally sitting on him_ or _pinning him to a bed_. Arial wondered what he’d done to deserve this torture.

“Say it!” Miles insisted.

“Everyone and their dog has a band and wants to be on the radio, it’s unrealistic,” Ari grumbled and shifted, trying to inch Miles subtly farther away from his crotch.

“But we aren’t them,” Miles insisted, and then gave Ari a second heart attack by leaning right into his face and singing, “ _Beverly hills, that’s where I want be. Livin’ in Beverly hills_.”

Ari squirmed, turning his face away, but Miles persisted, getting right up close and personal, his breath hot on Ari’s ear. Ari had never felt attraction this strong before, it felt like his very bones were on fire with it. He would have sold his soul for Miles to lean just an inch closer, maybe suck a mark onto Ari’s neck or lick- Ari clenched his eyes shut and had to bite back a tiny moan.

“ _I wanna live a life like that, I wanna be just like a king,_ ” Miles sang, voice rough and husky and _perfect_. It was the possibly one of the least sexy songs in existence, and yet there Ari was, trying not to pant or squirm, ears flushed stoplight red, literally shaking with need.

“Okay! Okay!” Ari yelped, voice strangled. “I give up! We’re going to be rock stars, we’ll out rock rocks, now get off of me!”

Miles sat back slightly, and Ari took the opportunity to roll out from under him and land right on the floor, yanking his shirt down to hide his boner.

“Don’t forget, you agreed with me,” Miles said from the bed with a stupid, dopey, lovable grin that Ari wanted to wipe off his face with his lips.

“Right, won’t forget,” Ari said, feeling doomed.

~

_Present Day_

Arial blinked and shook his head. Even if someone else hadn’t been using _Beverly Hills_ , he was hardly going to use a song that made him remember a moment he’d jerked off to endlessly as a teenager. Not to mention it was hardly the right tone he wanted.

He thought of and dismissed a half dozen songs, the hours steadily ticking by. Around him, the contestants appeared and disappeared to use the five soundproofed rooms they shared to practice in privacy. Everyone seemed to have settled on a song. Arial didn’t let it bother him and kept at it, getting up to walk around when his back started to cramp or his butt started to go numb from sitting too long.

He didn’t let his lack of progress bother him- he wasn’t there to win, and he had two more full days to prepare.

The other contestants gave him a few funny looks for his pacing and lack of any solid song, Grayson sneered at him and Arial barely resisted the urge to give him the biggest shit-eating grin he could pull off.

Arial froze.

He had an idea. But was it too on the nose? Probably. But it would be fucking hilarious to see Miles watch him sing it on stage, unable to do anything while cameras were rolling.

He spent the rest of the day remembering the chords to the song, humming under his breath, unable to keep a vicious smile from his face. He wasn’t a good person. Then again, he’d never pretended to be otherwise.

The contestants were housed in what was essentially a dorm and not allowed outside contact to prevent them from revealing information about the show before it aired. The quarters were cramped, made all the more so by the dozen odd cranky musicians who hadn’t been allowed to take breaks for meals and who’d been stuck working for several hours. It was a tactic used to try and encourage more behind the scenes drama, but frankly Arial felt so drained and exhausted that it felt like it was doing the opposite. He’d never felt less like caring about what other people were doing or saying. Even Grayson being a little shit and pointedly gossiping loudly about Arial being a ‘talentless hack’ didn’t give him a flicker of irritation or even amusement.

Rather than be allowed to spend their evenings however they wanted to, they were all herded into the kitchen area for dinner, though it was very obviously for the purpose of filming, not out of the goodness of the producer’s hearts.

“So why do you guys want to be part of Stress in Idleness?” One of the contestants asked, a soft-spoken Latino man named Robin.

Arial stayed out of the conversation, listening idly as people gave obviously prepared answers- a love for the band, wanting to perform with their idols, wanting to be famous, finding the bassist Felix Fitzroy irresistible. Laughter from the last response died down, and Alice looked at Arial as she asked, “Hey, what about you, Arial?”

Arial jerked his head up, having zoned out completely, mostly letting the words wash over him without paying much attention.

“Oh,” he said, biting his lip. He might have agreed to join the show just to spite Miles, but that was different than spilling his whole story on camera. Also, he was fairly certain Grayson would shank him with a butter knife if he (wrongly) assumed Arial had an advantage over him. “The band-their songs, I mean, are pretty personal to me, you know?” He finally settled on. It wasn’t exactly a lie, though the band hadn’t exactly formed until Arial was long gone.

Alice nodded like this made perfect sense. Grayson rolled his eyes. Everyone else looked as tired as Arial felt.

Finally, the cameras were put away for the evening and they were allowed to do whatever they wanted until six the next morning. Arial went straight to his room, which he’d known he’d be sharing with two other men, but discovered one of which was Grayson.

He was too tired to be annoyed and climbed into bed and put his headphones on. He scrolled through his music until he found the song he’d picked to perform and let his eyes fall closed as the music started to play

He drifted off to the familiar song ending, and another even more familiar one began.

~

_Sophomore Year_

_Winter_

“What do you think?” Miles asked, staring intently at Ari as the video on screen ended.

“I liked it,” Ari said. “Especially _and there’s nothing I can do, I just gravitate towards you, you’re pulling on me like the moon._ ”

“ _I just wanna get you sideways, I say anything I can to get me more than just a dance_ ,” Miles sang back, waggling his eyebrows comically and leaning down from his perch on the desk to get right into Ari’s face. “ _Tell me where to put my hands, you know that you could be my favorite one-night stand._ ” He trailed fingers from Ari’s elbow to wrist with a sultry smirk that almost looked like he wasn’t joking around.

Ari jerked back, flushing red and grumbled, “knock it off, Miles.” He hated when Miles went all gay chicken on him, it was just completely unfair of him. Miles pouted, but obligingly sat back.

“We _have_ to do this song as a cover for the talent show,” Miles insisted, nearly bouncing in his seat.

Ari pulled the headphones from his ears and frowned at his friend. Miles stared back, expression completely serious.

“It’s a good song, but we only have, like, a week until the talent show. We’ve been practicing _Flavour of the Week_ for practically a month,” Ari said. They’d worked their asses off figuring out how to get the song to work when they were two guys with a guitar and a bass and no drums.

“Like the school would let us perform a song that mentions weed,” Miles said dismissively. He had a look in his eye that Ari knew meant Miles wasn’t asking, just informing Ari on what he’d already decided.

But Ari wasn’t having any of it. He’d worked hard on the song they’d picked out. They’d both agreed it would be a perfect song to perform at the winter talent show, and would hopefully help them snag more band members. Miles was just being a selfish asshole.

“I don’t want to change the song,” Ari said firmly. Miles looked momentarily startled- Ari rarely disagreed with him.

“Why,” Miles demanded, an ugly look coming into his eyes. Ari recognized it as a warning sign, but ignored it. He was sick of Miles always calling the shots. “Don’t you like the song? It’s better.”

Well. He was sick of agreeing to everything because some stupid part of him thought that if he was good enough to Miles, he’d like him back the way Ari wanted him to.

“We don’t have time for this,” Ari snapped. “You’re going to make us look like idiots who didn’t practice if we change songs now.”

“We’re doing this song,” Miles snapped back, leaping to his feet and slamming a hand down on the desk.

Sitting down and being skinnier than Miles, Ari shrank back, heart pounding.

“O-okay. We’ll do your song,” Ari agreed, fingers clutching at the sleeves of his torn-up hoodie. “It’ll work out somehow.”

Miles stared down at him for a long moment before the tension left his body and his shoulders slumped.

“It’ll be perfect, you’ll see, Ari,” he said with an easy grin.

~

_Present Day_

Arial stood backstage wondering how much of an ass he was about to make of himself.

Maybe he shouldn’t have picked the song he had. Maybe he shouldn’t have agreed to be on the show. He could have left the past where it belonged. In the past few years he’d rarely thought of Miles, until he’d been handed _The Star Project_ file.

Faintly, he heard someone knock on the door he was standing outside of and stepped back. The doors swung outward, and Grayson stepped out, sweat beading on his forehead and darkening the collar of his t-shirt.

“Go well?” Arial asked politely when Grayson stopped in the doorway and blinked dumbly at Arial.

In response, the kid snarled something under his breath and stormed off.

Arial rolled his eyes, but couldn’t blame the kid for being grouchy. Arial was the last to perform, making Grayson the second to last. They’d had to be up at six with everyone else and then had cooled their heels waiting for their turn. It had turned out that filming each of the contestants wasn’t as simple as just running out onstage and singing a song- they had to be filmed performing a good three times to get all the angles the producers wanted, plus seeing them walk on and off stage. Which had only tacked on more time, making Arial antsier and less certain of himself as the hours ticked by.

A techie with a headset poked his head through the door. “You’re up, man,” he said and turned Arial’s mic on for him.

He stepped onto the stage, head held high, his heart pounding, fingers slippery against the frets of his guitar. The stage was blinding with light, he could only barely make out four shadowy figures seated at a table at the foot of the stage. He had no idea which one was Miles, so he stared right ahead and said with his best asshole smile, “I’m Arial Brown, a studio musician from POP Records. This is _Gives You Hell_ by The All-American Rejects.”

All of his worries melted away as his fingers remembered the familiar notes and his mouth the even more familiar words. He had this.

He couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he sang out, “ _And truth be told I miss you, and truth be told I’m lying_.”

The sound was incredible, all he could hear was the music, his own voice soaring over the beat of the drums. His heart leapt with joy in his chest and he blew through the song like a hurricane, happiness and bitterness twisting together into something new.

“ _You can sing along,_ ” Arial sang the final line, stepping back to his original spot at center stage. “ _I hope that it brought you hell_.”

There was a pause as the last note faded out, then the lights dimmed slightly.

“Great job,” one of the producers or other important show people said. “We’ll just need to shoot a few extra angles, but other than that we’re good.”

Arial nodded absently, unable to take his eyes off of the judges’ table.

Miles was sitting at the center of the table, looking like someone had just hit him over the head with two by four.

Arial couldn’t keep the smirk off his face as he turned to listen to his instructions on what the camera guy needed him to do.

Faintly, he heard bassist Felix Fitzroy hiss, “what the _fuck_ was that?”

After filming him walking on and off stage a few times and him pretending to sing and play parts of the song a from a few different angles, Arial was escorted off stage to where the other contestants were waiting impatiently to hear who was eliminated.

“How’d it go?” Alice asked when Arial sat down next to her, still buzzing with adrenaline and an impenetrably good mood.

“Well, I definitely gave them something to think about,” Arial said, grinning.

They were stuck waiting for three hours, giving the cameras soundbites for the post-performance section of the episode. Arial was certain he’d be the one eliminated, he was talented but he had little experience being the guy on stage, and he wasn’t a born music genius like a lot of the contestants. They’d been picked for a reason, he was there because he’d known the band’s front man in high school. There was no contest. He’d get the boot and then get to hang around in an apartment cut off from the outside world until the show was finished filming. It would be nice, relaxing. He’d spend his time luxuriating in the look on Miles’ face at least three times a day.

Eventually they were all directed back on stage and made to stand in a line. The lights were still blinding, but not as much as before, allowing them to see the band seated at their table.

Miles seemed have recovered, or at least had managed to slap a calm expression on his face. Felix hadn’t managed anything of the sort and was blatantly staring at Arial like he was trying to read his mind or something.

Miles rambled out an obviously pre-scripted speech about talent and fitting the band’s style, repeating himself without hesitation when he fumbled a word. He listed off the top three contestants, Alice among them, and they left the stage.

Arial knew that the bottom three would be named next with his name among them and the rest of the contestants would leave while he and two other two poor souls were left behind.

“Casey, Jeremy, Mia,” Miles said, “You are the bottom three.”

Arial’s heart stopped.

“Everyone else can leave the stage,” Felix added cheerfully, still staring at Arial.

He left the stage, numb.

They were put in a room and made to provide a bit more chatter, which Arial was completely oblivious to for the buzzing in his brain, then they were all shuffled off to provide interviews of their individual reactions.

“You seem surprised to have made it through the first challenge,” the interviewer prompted, once it was Arial’s turn.

“Yeah,” Arial said, a little stupidly, looking right at the interviewer.

“Look at the camera, act like I’m not here,” she reminded him, for what had to be the third time. So far she hadn’t gotten any usable responses, Arial still struck dumb and incapable of anything more complicated than a one word answer.

“Sorry,” Arial said, trying to shake some sense back into his brain. But seriously, what the hell had happened?

“So, you were surprised to make it through the challenge?” The interviewer prompted when Arial failed to continue.

“Yeah, I mean I’m up against some really talented folks who have more performance experience than I have,” Arial said honestly. “I wasn’t expecting to beat any of them, even in a single challenge.”

“Then why did you try out for the competition if you didn’t expect to make it?” she asked, looking relieved to have finally managed to get Arial’s ass in gear.

Arial didn’t bother telling her he hadn’t exactly chosen to join the show- that was probably something he’d agreed to keep a secret as part of his contract. “Well, I’m a fan of the band and the sort of music they make. You can’t win if you don’t try, so I thought, why not? But I wasn’t going to get my hopes up, and here I am.”

“The song you performed seemed to have a lot of emotion behind it, what can you tell me about that?” she asked.

He barely bit back a laugh: having a lot of emotions behind singing _Gives You Hell_ in Miles’ face was putting it lightly. “It’s a song I feel a strong connection to,” he settled on after struggling for a moment. “I think a lot of people feel that, wanting to say fuck-”

“No profanity, please,” the interviewer interrupted with a frown. “We want to avoid bleeping out words, it makes things messy and the sound techs get annoyed.”

“Right, sorry,” Arial said, trying not to make a face. He’d never been the best at censoring himself.

“Just repeat what you were saying there, please.”

“Right. I think a lot of people feel that, wanting to say- to say screw you to someone,” Arial fumbled, feeling like a total idiot. “I figured I should use a song that I could channel a lot of emotion into since Stress in Idleness values that in their music. And it’s an awesome song, one of The All-American Reject’s best.”

The interviewer asked him a few more questions, all a lot easier to bullshit his way through with only half his mind paying attention. He stumbled from the small room towards one of the lounge rooms, intent on laying down and figuring out what the _fuck_ had just happened.

He didn’t make it.

“Ari!” Felix cried, intercepting him with a cheery grin. “I didn’t know you were going to be here! It’s been years, man. You startled the pants off of all of us!”

Arial looked around and was surprised to note the lack of cameras, which was good since he didn’t want to be dragged back into an interview to talk about his history with the band which he _knew_ would happen eventually. That was half the reason Arial had been counting on getting kicked out of the contest after one song.

“Good to see you,” Arial said to Felix with a smile he wasn’t feeling.

“How do you know each other?” Jamie asked curiously, appearing in the hallway beside Felix.

“We knew each other years ago, when we were young and innocent kids,” Felix explained to Jamie, slinging an arm across Arial’s shoulders and dragging him into a lazy half hug. Somehow, Arial had forgotten about the constant platonic and sometimes not so platonic touching that happened when you were anywhere in the vicinity of Felix.

“I don’t know if you’ve ever been innocent, Felix,” Arial said dryly.

Felix snorted in good humour and said, “Wait, let me introduce you guys properly. Ari, meet Jamie, the most adorable hobbit who is also a killer keyboard player. Jamie, this is Arial Princess Brown, professional mermaid and darling cupcake.”

Nostalgia swept through Arial as he said, “For the last time, my middle name is Bedivere not princess, Felix.”

“That’s because your parents didn’t love you enough and had no taste,” Felix sniffed, easily falling back into the familiar banter. They’d had this conversation at least dozen times when they’d been kids.

“They’re both English professors, what can you expect?” Arial joked, a pang of sorrow shooting through him. He’d only known Felix a few months, but he’d missed this. For a brief second it made him long for a different time, an era that had barely existed. When Arial and Miles had felt on top of the world, like things were falling to place under their fingertips and their entire future lay before them, ready for the taking.

Then the moment was shattered when Jamie said, “Felix, we better go back. Miles will be pissed we left him to deal with the cameras alone.”

Felix’s arm fell from Arial’s shoulder, something in his smile saying that Arial wasn’t the only one with his head in the past.

“You’re right,” he said, voice just a hair off of what it should have sounded like. “I’ll see you later, baby,” he added with a wink at Arial and disappeared with Jamie.

Arial needed a drink.

~

_Sophomore Year_

_Spring_

“Bye mom!” Ari yelled, already half out the door, guitar case slung across his back. It was spring break and he and Miles were spending every spare minute they had getting ready for open mike night right after the break. It had taken Miles weeks of bugging the guy who ran it to convince him to let a pair of teenagers sign up, since he was a dick who thought all teenagers were talentless hacks, but Miles had finally worn the guy down. If they did well he’d let them sign up again, but they only had one shot so they had to be _perfect_.

“Where are you going?” his mom shouted back, right as Ari was about to leave. Ari rolled his eyes. It was the fifth day in a row of him heading over to Miles’ house first thing, where else was he going to be going?

“To Miles’ place,” he yelled, hand on the doorknob, hoping that would be the end of it.

It wasn’t, he heard his mom sigh and then heard the creaking of the stairs as she came down to him.

“I feel like I’ve hardly seen you all week,” she said and pushed Ari’s overgrown bangs off his face. Ari resisted the urge to complain about that, but knew better since he did actually want to be allowed to leave the house.

“We’re busy,” Ari replied, bouncing on his toes, just wanting to get out of there. He didn’t know what his mom was on about, she was so busy getting ready for some conference that even if Ari had been home she wouldn’t have noticed.

“Maybe you should see what your other friends are up to today instead,” his mom suggested and this time Ari really did roll his eyes. Miles was his only real friend, all his other friends were people he was friendly with and saw at school, and only at school.

“Mom, can I just go?” he asked, trying not to whine. Miles had told him to come over as soon as he woke up but Ari had felt lazy about getting out of bed, Miles he had to be getting antsy by then- it was nearly eleven.

His mom sighed again, her expression going a little strange as she said, “I know you boys are good friends, Arial, but I worry about how much time you spend together.” She paused, patting Ari’s hair back again, pointlessly since it had a mind of its own especially when it was as long as it was. “Miles is a good friend, but he has a real temper on him and is very assertive. I don’t want you doing things you don’t want to do, just because he asks you to, okay?”

Ari took a few seconds to process this and then realized what she was getting at and was torn between feelings of extreme horror and extreme embarrassment.

“Mom!” he squawked, face turning a brilliant shade of red. “We aren’t having sex! Christ!”

“Good,” she said and then looked concerned and quickly added, “Not that we’d think any less of you were interested in it with another boy. Your father and I will always love and support you.”

“Miles and I aren’t dating, mom!” Ari said and then added, so she didn’t get the wrong idea, “Or having sex!”

His mom didn’t look entirely convinced as she said kindly, “Okay, Arial. Just promise me that if you ever do you’re careful and you and your partner know that you can stop at any time for any reason. Promise me, alright?”

Ari was so mortified he almost couldn’t form words and said, “Mom, believe me. Miles and I aren’t dating. Or having sex. And we never will.”

That was when Miles ambled around the house and with an enormous smirk that said he’d heard every word.

Ari wanted to die.

His mom didn’t help matters, angled towards Ari she didn’t see Miles, and said, clear enough for Miles to hear, “Of course Ari. Just always use protection with whoever you’re not dating- I mean not having sex with- I mean having sex with. It’s very important. You don’t want to ever have to worry about STDs. Or pregnancies.” She added the last part like she didn’t think it would ever be an issue for Ari. Considering he was so far only interested in men, and basically only Miles to boot, it likely wouldn’t- but he’d never come out or done anything to indicate this to his parents and he just wanted the ground to open up and eat him. Things could not get any worse.

“You’re right Mrs. B,” Miles said, strolling closer with a pleasant smile that said he was going to be teasing Ari mercilessly over this conversation for the next year. Ari wondered hopelessly why he couldn’t have nice things. “Protection is very important. Ari knows all about it.”

Ari’s mom looked halfway between horrified and relieved, it wasn’t an expression Ari’d thought possible and it was the _worst._

Even though Ari strongly wanted to make out with Miles, he frequently also wanted to punch him in the face almost as often. Why was he friends with such a jerk?

“Miles,” Ari ground out. “I thought we were meeting at your place.”

“You were taking forever and didn’t answer my texts, so I came to make sure your lazy butt wasn’t still in bed,” Miles said.

Ari’s mom then made everything even worse by asking, “Do you boys want lunch before you go?”

“No-” Ari started to say, desperate to get away from his mom, who now thought he was having sex with his best friend because Miles was an asshole, but Miles interrupted him with an enthusiastic, “Yes please!”

Ari shot Miles a deadly glare and received a sunny smile in return.

If he didn’t love this asshole so much, he’d hate him.

~

_Present Day_

6 AM came sooner than Arial would have liked. He had barely slept. He had no idea what he was doing there. His contract said that he couldn’t just leave if he wanted to. He had to stick it out unless he wanted to be out a job and have the pants sued off of him.

He shared a room with Grayson and Robin. By the time Arial managed to drag his exhausted ass out of bed Robin was already gone, but Grayson was just starting to shuffle around and drag clothing on.

“You know Felix Fitzroy,” Grayson accused.

Arial looked up from trying to find a matching sock. It was too early for this.

“What?” He asked blearily.

“I saw you in the hall, you were talking to him,” Grayson said, like this was some sort of grand declaration. He’d never looked younger and more naive, but Arial was tired and cranky making it annoying rather than hilarious.

“So what?” He asked, voice unintentionally sharp.

“You’re cheating,” Grayson said, sounding all of twelve years old.

“What.”

“Or you’re a plant. Why would they bother with the show if they already picked someone- why would they pick you, you’re a shitty guitar player,” Grayson said, practically snarling by the end.

“Woah there,” Arial said, holding both hands up against the onslaught of words. “Chill the fuck out. No one said anything about them already having picked a winner. I literally just spoke to Felix once. So take that stick out of your ass and calm down.”

Arial turned around, ready to head down to the room where the contestants would be given breakfast and then shuttled to the day’s filming location. To his horror, a cameraman had arrived while he wasn’t paying attention. The entire conversation had been filmed.

Arial sighed and tried to roll with it, leaving the room without causing a bigger scene. He couldn’t help but wonder if Grayson had picked a fight because of the camera, or if it had just been a coincidence- the latter seemed entirely in character for him.

The morning was an organized shuffle as contestants ate and were prompted into talking about how they felt about the previous night’s elimination and the day’s upcoming challenge. Arial tried to mostly sit it out, ignoring Grayson’s ongoing glare. Alice, however, was not on the same page as Arial.

“Okay, seriously, what’s your problem?” She demanded, glaring right back.

“He-” Grayson started to say.

“It’s nothing to worry about,” Arial interrupted, looking to Alice and then to Grayson. “We have no problem here.”

Grayson looked mutinous, but said nothing even when Arial ended up having to sit next to him in the van on the way to the stage.

The entire band was waiting for them at the foot of the stage. Miles looked completely composed, his eyes not lingering on Arial any longer than they did on any of the contestants. Felix grinned widely at him, which made Arial mentally sigh. The second they were off stage, Grayson was probably going to pick a fight again. How annoying.

Miles was the first to speak after eyeing them all up in silently. “Yesterday was a tough day. Today will not be any easier. We expect the best from anyone who wants to be part of our band. There were some great performances. And some terrible ones.”

He paused, and Jamie picked up the slack, giving individual feedback to each competitor, eyes flicking down to a clipboard in his hand.

Due to his place near the end of the line, Arial was the second to last to be addressed.

“Arial, your performance was technically good and demonstrated the emotions of the song, but the performance aspect was seriously lacking,” Jamie said, without much inflection.

Arial bit back a flare of irritation and nodded without comment. Of course he lacked in performance, he was a studio musician, a job where skill mattered and what you looked like had no value. He was just a faceless voice and a guitar.

He was taking this too personally. He hardly wanted to win, being in Miles’ band was probably the worst idea anyone could ever have.

There were a few more unimportant things said about the challenge and then Kat, the drummer, dropped a bomb that made Arial mentally sit up and pay attention:

“The winner of this challenge will receive individual mentoring from Miles Eliot for the following challenge.”

Arial could practically feel everyone’s attention sharpen, weighing their competition up. It was a good thing Arial wasn’t looking for any one-on-one time with his ex-best friend because the incentive only added fuel to an already competitive fire, going by the sudden explosion of hushed whispers.

Back at the studio, Arial struggled to figure out what to do. The song was the least of his worry- the challenge had open-endedly been to pick a song that used the critique they’d been given on stage. What he was uncertain about was how much effort he should put into the whole thing.

He couldn’t leave the show, but if he did poorly he’d be kicked off. It was the easiest way to get out of there before Grayson did much more digging or Arial was forced to actually speak directly with Miles.

Somehow, though, not putting his best effort forward just didn’t sit right with him. He didn’t want anyone watching the show seeing a shitty performance and thinking that was all he was capable of.

Whatever, that just meant he’d do his best and likely get eliminated anyways. The first challenge probably didn’t count, the people who’d placed below him had likely been nervous and not at their best. The second challenge would be different.

All he had to do now was find a song

~

_Junior Year_

_Summer_

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Miles said, poking Ari in the cheek playfully.

“I’ll look _dumb_ ,” Ari countered, crossing his arms. There was no way he was doing this song at open mic night. Or if Miles made him, like he always somehow ended up doing, Ari was going to stand on the spot and refuse to jump around and act like an idiot like Miles was trying to get him to do.

They were in Miles’ mom’s garage where she let them keep their equipment and had even donated old furniture for them to use. Miles’ mom was pretty fantastic, she always acted like Miles saying he was going to be famous was entirely possible rather than an unlikely dream.  It was more than the indulgent smiles they got from Ari’s parents and much more than the exasperated eye rolls and sharp comments about wasted time and money from Miles’ dad. Not that they saw him too much, Miles had refused to go to his house after the second time his dad tried to make him join some young entrepreneurs club thing.

“At least move your hips or something,” Miles wheedled. “You’ll look dumber if you just stand still like a statue the whole time.”

“No,” Ari said stubbornly.

“Come on, at least just move your hips a little,” Miles wheedled. “No one will get into the song if it looks like _you_ aren’t into the song.”

He sort of had a point.

Ari hated when he was right.

“You’re the star here, do you really want me distracting from you on stage?” Ari asked, desperately trying to play off of his best friend’s massive ego. As much as Ari loved performing, he hated the part where it happened in front of people. Who could see him. He’d rather just be heard than seen, some days. Being painfully self-conscious was definitely a problem when you were in a band-duo-thing with someone who loved the limelight as much as Miles Eliot.

“Nice try,” Miles said, completely seeing through the ruse. He sat down next to Ari on the couch, their knees and shoulders bumping together as the couch sagged enormously under the weight of two bodies. “Come on, what’s going in that big brain of yours?” Miles asked, laying aside his usual self-centered focus and sounding concerned. “You always get into things by the second song,” Miles pointed out when Ari only bit his lip and said nothing. “We only get one song for this thing, so that’s not going to work this time.”

Miles had a point. There was a certain gravity about Miles, which was only amplified when he was performing, and Ari was always inevitably sucked into it. He would jump around and play conquering rock god for the crowd along with him, and then feel amazingly foolish afterwards, doubly so if anyone made the mistake of filming it and letting him see.

“I just... Feel like people are going to make fun of me,” Ari sighed, eyes downcast, rubbing his fingers over the fraying patches on the knees of his jeans. “This whole thing just doesn’t suit me. This isn’t me.”

Miles sighed deeply and poked Ari in the cheek, making him look up. “Why do you always put yourself into such small boxes?” He asked. “You’re capable of so much, Ari. You can do anything, if you’d stop telling yourself that you can’t.”

Ari rolled his eyes and said, “I think you’re thinking of yourself.”

“Ugh, stop with the self-pity. Come on, get up, get up!” He said, leaping to his feet. “No one’s here, we’re practicing and you’re going to give it everything or I’ll kick your ass!”

He hauled Ari up in a surprising show of strength- Ari might have been a skinny beanpole, but Miles was a good five inches shorter than him- and forced Ari’s guitar into his hand.

“ _I'm gonna make you bend and break_ ,” Miles sang, throwing his head back and basically acting three times as melodramatic as he normally would on stage, winking at Ari and trying to make him laugh. “ _Say a prayer but let the good times roll, in case God doesn't show_.”

Hesitantly, Ari started to play, fingers moving through familiar patterns without much thought. Miles poked him in the side until he dutifully sang along, “ _let the good times roll, let the good times roll._ ”

“ _And I want these words to make things right, but it's the wrongs that make the words come to life,_ ” Miles sang, bouncing on the spot. He was grinning widely as he did it, radiating so much energy that Ari couldn’t help but get into it too.

“ _But it's the wrongs that make the words come to life,_ ” He sang, forgetting about the theoretical audience that would be watching.

~

_Present Day_

“ _Thanks for the memories, see he tastes like you only sweeter!_ ” Arial sang triumphantly, the song coming to a close.

There was something to be said about picking a song that he knew would knock Miles on his ass, he thought, seeing Miles’ gob smacked expression at his song choice. If by some miracle he wasn’t cut after the second challenge, he might enjoy being there if only to keep fucking with him.

From the audience below, Alice let out a loud whoop of approval.

“Well you certainly took the challenge to heart,” Jamie said after an awkward beat where everyone was waiting for Miles to say something first, as he had with all of the other performances.

“Thanks,” Arial said, eyes not leaving Miles, even as his face smoothed over into something more appropriate for the camera.

“You were pitchy for the whole song after the second verse,” Miles said. He sounded disinterested and disconnected, like he and Arial both didn’t remember that song. It made Arial wanted to punch him in the face. He hated how the bastard could get under his skin with just a few words and a single careless look.

Arial grit his teeth, accepted his critique and went to sit with the other competitors in the audience to watch the last two performances.

“That was awesome,” Alice whispered to him, a huge grin on her face. “I don’t know what Miles is on about, you sounded fine.”

“Thanks,” Arial whispered back, as Grayson took the stage. He glowered down at them, then his face abruptly smoothed out and he immediately launched into _Death of a Bachelor_.

“Holy shit,” Alice said, not even trying to be quiet. “Good _goddamn,_ son.”

Arial was in agreement, the kid might have been like the most annoying yappy dog he’d ever encountered crossed with a self-important teenager, but he had the most astounding voice Arial had heard and was more than capable of handling Brendon Urie’s frankly ridiculous vocal range.

“Well that’s it, let’s all go home, he wins,” Arial said when the song came to a close, feeling like he’d just been punched in the face, but in a good way. There was no question, this brat of a kid had won hands down.

“How can someone so punchable have such a good voice?” Alice asked with a disbelieving laugh, sounding as off kilter as Arial felt.

Mia was next, and Arial had to feel sorry for her, from the look on her face she knew she was following an impossible act to one up, but gave it her all and did a pretty good job with LOLO’s _Hit And Run_.

They were sent from the room while the band filmed the deliberation over the winner of the challenge, even though everyone had to know Grayson had blown the whole thing out of the park.

It should have only taken a half hour or so to get all the footage of them talking about Grayson’s performance, and everyone else’s to a lesser degree.

Instead, the minutes stretched into hours, and they were left to languish in the lounge for nearly four hours.

At last they were summoned back and filed onto the stage once again. Arial frowned as he spotted two of the show’s big wigs leaving the stage from the other side, off camera. That explained it, there must have been some executive meddling in the judging. Somehow, he didn’t like the sound of that.

“We saw some incredible performances for this challenge,” Kat said once they were arranged to the cameramen’s satisfaction. “Some of you took our critiques to heart, while others did not rise to the challenge.”

Jamie read a list of five of the competitor’s names followed by saying, “You are all safe in this challenge, you may leave the stage.”

That left the bottom three and top three on stage. Arial wasn’t surprised to find himself, Alice and Grayson among those six.

“Caroline, your performance was lackluster, and you didn’t seem to take any of the advice we gave you to heart. You are not the next star. You may leave the stage,” Felix said.

“JJ, Casey, you both need to step things up, but you are both safe for this round,” Kat said.

Arial frowned as that left himself, Alice and Grayson on the stage as the top three. He remembered the men in suits he’d seen leaving the stage and got a sinking feeling in a stomach. They couldn’t seriously...

Miles looked straight ahead and said, voice flat, “The winner for this week’s challenge is... Arial.”

Arial stared at Miles in disbelief.

Then Grayson exploded, saying the words that all three competitors had to be thinking: “What the _fuck_! Are you _serious?”_

Before anyone could say anything, Grayson stormed off the stage, going out of his way to shoulder past Arial roughly, glaring daggers at him.

“Well,” Jamie said, sounding cheery, but unable to fully keep his discomfort off his face. “This was a great challenge. Congratulations, Arial.”

“Thanks,” Arial said numbly.

The numb feeling persisted as he was escorted from the stage. What the hell had happened. He was heading for his post-challenge interview when Felix caught him and dragged him into a small room just off stage.

“You can’t keep doing this,” Arial protested. There were no cameras in the room Felix had pulled him into, but he’d almost certainly been filmed in the hallway.

“What does it matter?” Felix asked, hopping up on a table. The room was some sort of storage space, full of dusty abandoned furniture and smelled stale. “I wanted to talk to you about Miles before you have to spend quality time with him.”

“It matters because people already think I’m cheating,” Arial groused. Hell, _he_ thought he was cheating or something- there was no way he should have beat Alice, much less Grayson.

“You are cheating,” Felix replied easily. “Or at least the producers are,” he corrected himself. “They know about your past with Miles, Ari.”

“It’s Arial,” Arial corrected waspishly. “And, yeah, I know that I was picked to be on the show because I knew Miles, that much was obvious.”

“Right, I forgot, you’re an _adult_ now,” Felix replied, rolling his eyes. “Did you really think they’d go to all that effort of getting you on here just to have you leave after the first episode?” he asked, raising both his eyebrows. “You’re not that dumb, babe.”

“Except when I am,” Arial replied, sinking down on a dusty chair like the stone sinking through his stomach. “I’m never going to fail a challenge, am I?”

Felix tilted his head consideringly. “Not until they get something out of you and Miles they can use,” he concluded. “The producers want a lot of drama, last season was pretty low key, apparently. We were going have Grayson win, that’s why they were on stage and why he deliberation too so long- Miles yelled at them a bunch and they wouldn’t budge, they wanted you to win, but Miles doesn’t want to be around you. And Grayson should have won too, I guess.”

“Yeah, well the feeling’s mutual,” Arial muttered lowly. He couldn’t believe he’d been dumb enough to think he’d get through the show without all his skeletons being dragged out of the closet again. He was seriously dense sometimes. Of _course_ the producers were going to make a big fuss over his history with Miles. Of course it wasn’t going to stay below the radar. How stupid was he, really?

“I got the feeling, when you sang _Gives You Hell_ ,” Felix said dryly “And when you sang _Thnks Fr Th Mmrs._ It was like you sucker punched him in the gut- what was with that?”

“It’s a long story,” Arial said and rubbed a hand over his face. “Right, so you just wanted to warn me that Miles is going to be a total dick to me the next few days? Because I could have figured that much out.”

“Figured I owed you that much at least,” Felix said, cheerful demeanor dimming slightly. “After everything I did-”

“None of it was ever your fault, Felix,” Arial interrupted, feeling exhausted. “The whole thing was a long time coming, you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Felix nodded, but didn’t look too convinced. “You should probably go; the producers’ll be getting pissy if we disappear for too long.”

Arial nodded and stared to leave the room, before he jerked back inside. “Shit- Grayson’s there. He was already being a little shit about me cheating before I beat him.”

“I have an idea, let me help you out,” Felix said with a smile Arial knew spelled trouble.

Before Arial could do anything, Felix pulled him out into the hallway and, with a smirk, kissed him full on the lips and then left, loudly smacking him on the ass as he went.

“See you next time, honey!” He shouted over his shoulder.

Arial turned, and noted distantly that in addition to Grayson, Miles was also in the hallway.

Arial was going to kill Felix if it was the last thing he ever did.

Grayson looked about ready to commit murder. Miles’ face was frighteningly blank.

Arial booked it to the interview room, feeling the weight of their eyes heavy on his back.

The post-challenge interview took forever, mostly because Arial was too frazzled and irritated by turns to give them the responses they were looking for, which led them to asking the same question in as many different ways as they could.

Eventually they either ran out of patience or time and Arial was free to go. He wasn’t certain he was relieved or not, Miles was lying in wait for him just around the corner from the interview room, arms crossed and a foul look on his face. There was nowhere for Arial to run without looking like a total ass. Unless he literally turned on his heel and left, he was stuck dealing with Miles. Arial mentally sighed, put his big boy pants on, and kept going, stopping a few feet from Miles.

“What?” He snapped. He was tired. He just wanted to go lay down and get some sleep, rather than deal with Miles’ histrionics.

“Why the fuck are you on my show?” Miles demanded. “To come fuck shit up? Do you think that’s funny, ruining everything I’ve worked for?”

“Everything you’ve worked for- your stupid reality TV show?” Arial asked, not even trying to hold back the bitter laugh that bubbled out of him.

“No my _band_!” Miles snarled back. “I might not be able to avoid this farce of a show and pick whoever I want to replace Monroe, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let _you_ ruin my choice between everyone here.” Miles punctuated this by poking Arial in the chest with one finger, sneering at him.

“I didn’t even do anything!” Arial snapped back, rapidly losing any modicum of patience he’d had left. “I literally just showed up and sang two songs! What the hell do you want from me.”

For some reason, this seemed to startle Miles, the dark look fading from his face somewhat and he rocked back a step. “You didn’t talk to the producers?” He asked sharply.

“Just leave me the hell alone,” Arial snapped, stepping around him, intent on getting the fuck out of there. Miracle of miracles, Miles let him go.

The quick trip to the building where the competitors were staying did nothing to calm his temper. How _dare_ Miles talk to him like that, like Arial wanted to be there and have to see his face every day, like Arial was the sort of jackass who’d go out of his way to ruin someone else’s life. He might have wanted to fuck with Miles by showing up on his show but ruining his career or his band was stupid. Miles had won, Arial wasn’t going to sabotage that, he wasn’t that much of a bitter, jaded asshole.

Because Arial was in such a foul mood, Grayson was waiting for him in their room, Robin being sensible enough to have cleared out ahead of time.

“So, I was right, you did screw your way onto the show,” Grayson snapped.

“Oh my god, are you actually twelve?” Arial asked, feeling about an inch away from losing it completely after the entire disaster of a day. “Look, you’re right to be angry. You should have won. The fact that I cracked the top five is complete bullshit.”

“I- what?” Grayson said, looking almost comically caught off guard, the wind taken out of his sails unexpectedly. It made him seem more human and less like the anger and self-centered nature of six teenagers shaped into a person. It also reminded Arial how he would have felt in that situation at age eighteen or however old Grayson was. His temper cooled somewhat.

“I’m saying you should have won,” Arial said bluntly, “my winning was executive meddling. You’re more talented than I am, so don’t take this as you not being good enough, okay?”

“Alright,” Grayson said, still sounding caught off guard and like he expected Arial to follow this up by saying something nasty. Arial seriously did not miss being an actual teenager.

Neither of them spoke for the rest of the night.

~

_Junior Year_

_Fall_

Ari was drunk. No, not drunk, he’d been drunk before, off his dad’s beer and Miles’ mom’s expensive cider. This was not that. Ari was completely _smashed_. It was fantastic, everything was hilarious and amazing and he never wanted to be sober again.

“You’re the best,” he told Miles, around whom he was wrapped like a boa constrictor.

“What?” Miles shouted back. The party was teaming with people and music was blasting from an enormous sound system someone had stolen from their older brother, making the whole room shake with the thumping beat. This was also fantastic, even if it meant Ari was having a hard time telling Miles how great he was.

“You’re the best!” Ari shouted again and curled a little closer. He was basically sitting in Miles lap, one arm curled around his back, his knees bent and probably digging in uncomfortably to Miles’ ribs. He didn’t seem to mind since he’d been the one to drag Ari so close. Ari loved the tiny couch crammed with too many people they were sitting on, not in the least because it made this arrangement sort of reasonable.

“Okay,” Miles replied and stroked a hand over Ari’s neck. Ari hadn’t seen him drink much, but he was probably just as smashed as he was- he’d always been more of a drinker than Ari was. Ari all but purred at the touch and tucked himself in closer, resting his head on Miles’ shoulder, content to just let the party rage around him without his input.

He didn’t fall asleep, just sort of zoned out, and the next thing he knew the music had been turned down and half the people in the room were gone. Miles and the other occupants of the couch were talking about kissing. Specifically, their first kisses.

“It was just, like, _so_ gross,” one girl concluded, snickering and shaking her head hard enough to make her beer spill out of her solo cup.

“And that is why I’m never kissing anyone ever,” another girl concluded sagely.

“You’re never kissing anyone because you’re asexual and told me you think kissing is weird, Mara,” another girl yelled from across the room.

“Everyone’s first kiss is awful, Janey,” one of the guys said to the first girl. “At least you didn’t get puked on, like I did.”

“What are you on about, my first kiss was amazing,” Miles proclaimed.

“Really,” the guy- he was from their grade, Ari thought his name was probably Dave- said in a tone that said he didn’t believe Miles.

“It was magical,” Miles confirmed. Somehow this was completely hysterical to Ari and he started giggling uncontrollably.

“Okay now you _have_ to tell us about it,” Janey said. “I want to hear about a magic kiss.”

“Oh, I’d never kiss and tell- oh, well if you insist, I suppose I have to!” Miles said, gesturing as dramatically as he could without dislodging Ari. “Okay, so set the stage: Summer camp.”

“Obviously,” Janey said, nodding. They somehow acquired a larger crowd, more people settling down around the couch looking up at Miles as recounted the tale in a ridiculous faux-British accent, looking down his nose at them like some sort of demented college professor.

“I am an inexperienced lad of seven,” Miles continued.

“Oh lord,” someone said quietly, and then was immediately hushed.

“I was busy making a paper maché frog when I was approached by the most beautiful girl in camp, Miss Eugenia Wong, Genie to her acquaintances. She had long brown hair that was always tangled, was taller than all the boys our age and wasn’t afraid of wasps. A veritable goddess among seven-year-olds.

“She said, ‘I like your frog’ and I said, ‘I’ll give it to you if you’ll be my girlfriend’ and she said ‘okay. I guess that means I have to kiss you. My sister said that’s what you do when you’re someone’s girlfriend’ so I agreed, though my heart was full of awe and fear of this girl, so she kissed me and then I got scared and ran away and wouldn’t talk to her for the rest of camp. And she stole my frog. The end.”

“Wow, what a beautiful story,” Janey said. “I suddenly feel much more appreciative of my first kiss now.”

“I live to serve,” Miles said, dropping the accent.

“What about you, Ari?” Dave asked. “You have to have an even better first kiss story.”

“I don’t,” Ari mumbled, clinging a little harder to Miles, feeling horrifically embarrassed. Miles rubbed a comforting hand across his back. “Kissing’s always seemed so _hard_.”

“Don’t let our stories get you down, Ari,” Dave said and then was distracted by someone on the other side of the room producing a bottle of... something, Ari didn’t know what it was but it was ominously green, and everyone was excited about the shots being poured.

“Do I have to get up?” Ari asked as everyone around them went to see what was happening with the shots, not liking the idea of moving. He was comfortable, that was all.

“Nah,” Miles said lazily. “I’ve had enough tonight.”

“Kay,” Ari said and tried to squish closer, but didn’t really succeed since he was already literally in Miles’ lap. Being drunk was the best, he didn’t even feel embarrassed or self-conscious about what he was doing at all, though he was certain he probably should have been.

“You know, you don’t need to worry about your first kiss,” Miles said eventually, both of them watching people take shots of the mysterious green alcohol. Apparently, it involved literal fire. Ari was very grateful not to be involved.

“Why not? I’ll probably be the one puking in the scenario, I’ll be so nervous,” Ari grumbled, tipping his head backwards. Because he was already leaning his head on Miles’ shoulder this meant that his nose almost grazed Miles’ cheek. “Guess it’s better to be the puker not the puke-ee...” Ari mused slowly and then nearly swallowed his own tongue.

Because Miles’ hand was on his cheek and was tipping his head back farther and his lips were touching his own. Ari made a startled noise but leant into it anyways. Miles was achingly gently with him, his hands cradling the back of his head finger tips tracing across his neck delicately. Ari’s lips parted without thought and suddenly he wanted, _needed_ to get closer. Without a thought, he shifted so he was sitting in Miles’ lap proper, one knee on the either side of his hips. This put him up higher than Miles, forcing Miles to tip his head back to avoid breaking contact. He groaned and tugged at Ari’s hair, the kiss going from soft and gentle to sloppy and heated. Ari clutched at Miles’ t-shirt as he rode it out, the intensity increasing. He felt Miles’ tongue against his own and couldn’t stop the moan that tore out of him. Miles gasped against his lips and Ari ground his hips down, making Miles hiss in pleasure. Miles’ hands tugged on his hair gently, making Ari gasp in return, the kiss getting dirtier and wetter and just _so good_.

Why had he been scared of this? Why did anyone do anything but this all day? It was incredible. He wanted more, wanted Miles to take his shirt off, to roll Ari onto the couch and lay over him like he had that one afternoon, maybe even pin him down- the thought made Ari moan and his mouth fell open a little more, made him bite Miles’ lip.

Miles gasped against his lips and one of his hands dropped from Ari’s hair to sliding up the back of his shirt. His hand stroked over his skin, making Ari shiver lightly, and then abruptly slipped down, his fingertips tracing over the top of his jeans. They dipped under the elastic of his boxers. Ari moaned, shockingly loud and wanton sounding even to his own ears. Miles’ hands clutched at him at the sound.

“Wow, guess Ari wins best first kiss!” Janey laughed, not too far away.

Abruptly, Ari realized what he was doing. He sat pulled back and stared at Miles. His eyes were all pupil, his lips wet, his hands still under Ari’s shirt. Neither of them said anything, both breathing deeply.

Without saying a word, Ari slipped off of his lap and back down onto the couch, no longer tangled up, only their thighs brushing lightly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs used this chapter:  
> Woah Oh! (Me Vs. Everyone)- Forever the Sickest Kids  
> Beverly Hills- Weezer  
> Flavour of the Week- American Hi Fi  
> La La- The Cab  
> Gives you Hell- The All-American Rejects  
> Thnks fr th mmrs- Fall Out Boy  
> Death of a Bachelor- Panic! At the Disco
> 
> I also have an [8tracks](https://8tracks.com/ladyfnick/young-love-is-just-a-dream) playlist for this fic, which will have songs added with each chapter


	2. And I know there's nothing I can say to change that part

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains an explicit scene (how did this happen) but it's pretty easy to skip if that isn't your jam, just control + f "Ari woke up"

_Junior Year_

_Fall_

Ari woke up with the worst hangover he’d ever experienced. Given that he was friends with Miles, that was really saying something. He felt like death and frankly, being dead sounded like it would have been more pleasant.

He lay there, wallowing in his pain, wondering idly how he’d gotten home when his last memory of the night before was...

It was in that moment that his brain decided to inform him of all his drunk self’s life choices.

Which had included kissing Miles. Well, making out was more accurate. He’d been _grinding_ on him while sitting on his lap.

And Miles had _let_ him. He’d more than let him, he’d nearly stuck his hands down the back of Ari’s pants.

He rolled out of bed, grabbed his phone and a pair of flip flops and flew out of the house, not stopping even when his mom called after him.

His phone said it was not even ten in the morning. Miles would still be asleep. By all rights, _Ari_ should have been asleep.

Ari let himself into Miles’ house as he had a thousand times, waved to Miles’ mom and his little sister and went straight up to Miles’ room.

He was asleep on his back, snoring loudly, his bedding tangled wildly around his legs. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. There was a dark mark on his neck- a hickey. Which Ari had made.

Ari averted his eyes and sat down on a beanbag chair to wait. He thought about getting up to get a book or something, but he was so tired and his head and eyes hurt and...

He fell asleep.

“Ari?” Miles’ sleep fuzzy voice brought him to his senses. Ari came awake all at once with a startled snort.

“Yeah?” he asked, rubbing at his face sleepily. He felt less awful, though his mouth still felt gross and he was still kinda tired.

“Why’re you here? And after all the effort I put into sneaking you upstairs without waking your parents up,” Miles said, slowly sitting up and kicking free of his tangled sheets.

“I was wondering how I’d gotten home,” Ari said, staring at Miles closely. He had to say something about the kiss, he couldn’t just pretend it hadn’t happened, could he?

“You were such a pain in the ass,” Miles said with a smile that belied his words. “You really did _not_ want to go to bed, I practically had to wrestle you into it.”

Ari bit his lip and tried not to picture that. He failed miserably.

“Why’d you let me drink so much, anyways?” He complained and climbed up onto Miles’ bed next to him. His bed was much comfier than his own or the beanbag chair, so Ari shamelessly flopped on it, sighing in relief when his back popped loudly.

“You were insistent on trying the absinthe once they lit it up,” Miles said with a wry smile. “I couldn’t stop you.”

“I drank something _on fire_?” Ari yelped, one hand clutching at his throat. It felt fine and completely not-burnt.

“Not really, they set the sugar on fire and- well it doesn’t matter, it was totally safe,” Miles said and flopped next to him. It was a twin bed, they were pressed together from knee to shoulder, their faces inches apart. They’d been in similar positions a thousand times, each a unique kind of painful for Ari.

This time was different.

With a sinking heart, his mouth inches from Miles’ mouth, he realized Miles really wasn’t going to say anything. He was actually pretending it hadn’t happened.

Any reason Ari could think of for doing this was terrible and heart wrenching.

Maybe Miles was straight and less comfortable with gay people than his actions on stage had made it seem liked.

Maybe he was gay and not ready to face it.

Maybe he just didn’t like kissing Ari.

So he didn’t say anything. He lay next to Miles and curled closer, letting his aching head tuck under Miles’ chin and tried to push his stupid, useless, and most importantly: _unrequited_ crush deeper into his heart where he could pretend it didn’t exist.

_~_

_Present Day_

Arial wondered what in god’s name he done to deserve this.

He was sitting on an uncomfortable couch, his beat-up guitar laying across his lap.

Miles was sitting across from him.

Neither of them said anything.

They’d been stuck in that room, in those positions for at least five minutes.

Ari refused to be the first to bend.

It was at least another uncomfortable ten minutes of them staring each other down before Miles finally snapped, “What, so Felix gets a conversation from you, but I don’t even get a single word?”

“ _Don’t_ ,” Arial growled. For fuck’s sake, Miles wasn’t really willing to have this out on camera, was he? “Look, are we going to work on this stupid song or not?”

“Oh right, he got more than a _conversation_ , didn’t he?”

When they’d been kids, Miles’ temper had shown in angry words, a raised voice and, as he’d gotten older, sometimes worse. Arial’s temper had always had a longer wick to burn, a rage that boiled beneath his skin until he snapped- and would storm off to stew in his own anger until it cooled enough for him to tolerate other human beings again.

Ari carefully set his guitar aside, stood and made to leave the room, so incandescently angry he’d looped back around to calm. Before he got past Miles’ chair, Miles’ hand shot out and grabbed him by the wrist, his grip just a little too tight.

Arial looked down at the grip on his arm and then back up at Miles.

“I wasn’t finished-”

“Well I was,” Arial said, voice ice cold. “Come find me when you’re done acting like a seventeen-year-old.”

He ripped his arm out of Miles’ grip and stormed out of the room.

~

_Junior Year_

_Spring_

They were at another party, though neither Miles nor Ari were nearly as drunk as they’d been at the party the previous Fall.

Ari had refused to touch a single drop of alcohol since then. It was just less embarrassing that way.

“Come on, Felix has to have been waiting _forever_ for us,” Ari said trying to push his way through the enormous crowd of people.

“If _someone_ hadn’t made me turn around so they could get a clean shirt, we would have been on time,” Miles countered, his mouth hovering just over Ari’s ear. He’d shot up a few inches in the last few months, and as a result this was something that seemed to happen distressingly often. Ari wasn’t sure if it was a product of being around Miles too much or just growing up, but he’d gotten used to it and the sliver of pleasure that it made shoot down his spine.

Either way, it was easy enough to reply, “Well if _someone_ had told me there was a stain the size of a cantaloupe on the back of my shirt before we left, I wouldn’t have made us late.”

Miles wrapped an arm around his shoulders and effortlessly pushed through the crowd, dragging Ari along with him. Ari sincerely missed the bygone days when he’d been taller than Miles, because shit like that had rarely happened before. He hoped his growth spurt would hurry up and arrive so it would stop. It was hell on his heart, even if he’d grown used to it.

“There’s Felix!” Ari said, spotting their friend near the edges of the crowd.

“I’ll go get drinks,” Miles offered, nodding towards where there was a keg and a forest of other bottles piled on a table on the other side of the room.

“Thanks,” Ari said and fought his way over to Felix. They’d met him at a party during the Winter break and he’d wiggled his way into Ari and Miles’ sort-of-band practices. He was a total flirt, a bit of a flake but _killer_ on the bass. Ari hadn’t liked him much at first, the flirting made him pretty uncomfortable, but he had eventually warmed up to him over time.

“Princess!” Felix shouted once he spotted Ari making his way through the crowd, his wild red hair slicked back with sweat. The room was packed wall to wall, music blaring incomprehensibly through really shitty speakers, the whole room hot and humid from the end of June heat and the too many people crammed inside the warehouse.

Ari rolled his eyes, but didn’t protest the name, Felix was obnoxiously tenacious and it would make no difference. He let Felix pull him out of the crush into the less crowded area by the walls. A window was even open high above them, letting in a tiny bit of much needed fresh air.

“What took you so long, I’ve been here forever,” Felix said, gesticulating wildly, a bottle of Jaeger in one hand.

“Miles was being stupid,” Ari replied, which was pretty much a stock phrase by that point in their friendship, and almost always applicable.

“When _isn’t_ he?” Felix asked and then took a swig from the bottle. “And don’t think I don’t know it’s your birthday today, young man,” he added with a wink.

“And yet, here I am, at a party,” Ari muttered grumpily. It was a little bit for show, he’d stopped outright hating parties, but he generally had more fun with less people around.

“You have to drink tonight, at least,” Felix wheedled, jiggling the bottle enticingly. “I’ll make sure you don’t do anything stupid tonight,” he added when Ari bit his lip, actually considering it. You did only turn seventeen once.

Over by the keg, Miles was leaning into the space of a girl with bright green hair. She touched his shoulder, smiling up at him.

It was nothing new. Didn’t mean it didn’t piss Ari off.

“Give me the bottle,” Ari demanded. Felix cheered and handed it over. Ari took a swig, nearly spat it out and then took another awful mouthful.

“That’s revolting,” he said, voice hoarse. “Why are you drinking this?”

“My brother didn’t want it, so he gave it to me,” Felix said with a shrug. “But I’ll text Felix and tell him the princess demands a girly drink.” He whipped his phone out and started to tap out a text.

“There’s no shame in girly drinks if they don’t taste like licking the abominable snowman’s ass,” Ari said, even as he took another swig. Somehow, he just didn’t feel like being sober that night.

Twenty minutes later, Ari was well on his way to being heartily sloshed and Miles still hadn’t come back from the keg.

“Alright, that’s it, let’s go dance, that sucker can come find us once he’s got it back in his pants,” Felix said sharply. He’d caught onto the Ari-Miles thing nearly right away, and somehow he’d ended up on Ari’s side of things, despite having known Miles first. It was part of the reason Ari had finally started to like him a little.

“It’s fine,” Ari insisted, but dropped the empty bottle on the floor and let Felix pull him into the crowd.

The music was loud and thudding, the lyrics completely lost in the scratch of the speakers. Ari let the crowd pull him along to the beat, let Felix put his hands on his hips and grind against him. It was fun, Felix meant nothing by it, and they both knew it, which made it okay. Ari laughed when Felix waggled his eyebrows at him and slung an arm around his shoulders.

“Geez, why’d you guys move, took me forever to find you,” Miles yelled in his ear. He held three cups in his hand, passing one to each of them. Ari’s held a rum and coke that was mostly rum. The green-haired girl had come with him. Ari slugged back half the cup and made a very good go at pretending he didn’t care.

Between Felix and Miles, his cup never seemed to empty, and Ari was riding high, blissed out on the music that seemed to get better with each cup and thudded along with his heart beat.

He danced with Felix, with some girl from school and then Felix and Miles and then just Miles. The green-haired girl had disappeared. Ari was glad. Miles’ hands were on him and Ari thought he should push him away, doing this only made reality more painful. He didn’t. It was his birthday, he was going to let himself pretend, at least that night.

A stray bottle rolled under their feet, making them stumble. Miles lost his balance and nearly took Ari with him as he fell.

“Shit! Miles!” Ari said, trying to haul him to his feet, but barely able to keep his own feet under him. Felix, being the most sober out of the three of them, effortlessly yanked him up.

“Gross,” Miles said, looking at his hands. They were covered in sticky dirt from the beer-soaked concrete, and he had a scrape on one palm. “I’m going to go wash my hands, be right back.” He disappeared into the crowd of people. It was late, maybe two in the morning and the warehouse was only getting fuller.

Ari shrugged and slugged back the last of his latest cup- he had no idea what was in it, but he was drunk enough not to care. Felix and Ari danced for what felt like forever, Felix being over the top goofy and flirtatious by turns.

“Okay, where the hell did he go now?” Felix muttered, audible to Ari only because of how close their faces were. Then, in a strange voice, he said, “ _Oh._ ”

“What?” Ari asked, trying to turn to see what Felix was looking at over his shoulder. Felix held him in place and said, “No, Ari don’t. You don’t want to-”

Ari jerked his shoulders free and turned around.

Miles was kissing the green-haired girl over by the bathrooms.

Ari whirled back around. Felix’s eyes were achingly sympathetic. Ari didn’t want sympathy. He didn’t want to think about anything.

“Booze, please,” he said sharply.

Felix gave him a long look and then nodded and towed him over to the table.

Ari drank whatever Felix handed him and then when Felix said he’d had enough and his head was spinning, he made Felix dance with him again. Hands on his shoulders, hips grinding into his, a face hovering over his shoulder. It wasn’t Miles, wasn’t what he wanted. But it was close.

Felix went along with him, didn’t say no, just smiled a smile full of sympathy and let Ari do whatever he wanted.

When Ari turned in his arms and pulled him down into a kiss, he let him.

It was good. Ari was seventeen, he’d only had one kiss, almost anything would be okay with him.

It wasn’t what he wanted.

He pulled away and made a face and then realized what he’d done and how shitty he was probably treating Felix. “Shit- sorry- I didn’t mean-” he stuttered, feeling dizzy and awful.

Felix shook his head and smiled crookedly. “It’s fine. Maybe we should get you home now, though,” he suggested, starting to push in the direction of the doors. It was seriously late, the crowd had thinned out a little, making escaping a little easier.

“Yeah,” Ari agreed, clinging to Felix’s arm to avoid tripping or falling. His legs were seriously unsteady. He’d arrived at the party vowing not to touch a drop, and there he was, more drunk than he’d ever been in his life. He was a mess.

“I’ll go find Josie, she said she wasn’t drinking tonight, she can drive us,” Felix said once they were nearly at the doors, and went back in.

Miles was waiting for him outside, a scowl on his face. The green-haired girl was nowhere in sight.

“What the fuck?” he snapped, just audible over the music.

“What the fuck what?” Ari asked dumbly. He was exceptionally drunk and exhausted and the last person he wanted to talk to was Miles.

“You! Making out with Felix!” Miles said, throwing his hands up like this made any sense at all.

“What about it?” Ari asked, feeling anger rising in him like a wave. The last god damn thing Miles had any right to lecture him on was making out with people.

“What, has this been going on the whole time? You been sneaking behind my back for months or something?” Miles demanded. There was a familiar dangerous look in his eyes. His hands were clenched into trembling fists, like he would explode at the slightest provocation.

“Right, I’m done,” Ari snapped and made to move past Miles, intent on damn well walking home if he had to.

“Hey!” Miles said and grabbed Ari by the bicep. “I wasn’t finished.”

“I don’t care,” Ari said and tried to rip free. Miles’ hand just tightened, to the point of pain. “Let go!”

“Not until you tell me what the hell you two are doing-”

“I don’t need your permission to kiss anyone, Miles,” Ari snapped. The hand on his arm was really starting to hurt and he cried out. “Let me go!”

“Yeah you don’t need me for anything, right? That’s why I’m your only friend,” Miles said with a nasty smirk.

“Fuck you!” Ari said loudly. “I’d rather have no friends than be an attention whore with a million friends who talk shit about me the second I’m gone.”

“At least I’m not a talentless loser who’s going to be stuck in this backwater town for the rest of my life.”

Ari was so angry that he felt calm. He didn’t think he’d ever been this angry. He didn’t even stop to think about it, just swung one poorly aimed fist at Miles’ face. His knuckles barely grazed his cheek. Miles snarled something and shoved him back, hard enough for Ari to stumble and fall on his ass.

Miles took one step forward. Laying on the ground as he was, Ari felt tiny compared to him. His back ached from the fall and his arm was throbbing in pain. The look in Miles’ eye scared him to death, there was only anger in it, and not an ounce of mercy.

He was terrified, like he’d never been before. This was the side of Miles that he avoided at all costs, that made him duck his head and agree with whatever he said, the one who threw things and yelled and didn’t give a shit about who or what he hurt or broke in the process.

Shakily, Ari got to his feet. Miles slapped him, a shock of pain that knocked him right back onto his ass.

Suddenly, Felix was shoving his way between them, holding his hands up. A girl nervously hovered in the background, a set of keys clutched in her hands.

“Woah, just calm down you guys,” Felix said, eyes swinging back and forth between the two of them, owlishly wide. He’d never seen Ari and Miles argue like this. Because they’d never done more than squabble in their entire friendship. “There’s no need to fight-”

“There’d be no need if this little slut-” Miles started to snarl.

That was it. Ari leapt to his feet, shockingly on balance

“Fuck you, Miles,” he snapped and stormed off, his heart pounding.

~

_Present Day_

“Look, what I said was uncalled for,” Miles said.

Arial didn’t bother to look up from his magazine, feet propped on a table. He hadn’t been able to go far, just to another lounge, but the space had done its job. He was still angry, but it was less sharp, just a low simmer. He was tired. He’d been tired of it all for years.

“Yes, it was,” Arial said, still not looking up. He didn’t even know what the magazine was about, he’d just picked something up to avoid looking at the camera that had trailed him out of the room. If he didn’t look at it, it was like it wasn’t there. That was totally how that worked.

“I was completely out of line,” Miles added, stepping a little closer.

“Yes, you were,” Arial said, casually flipping a page.

“I’m sorry.”

That made Arial drop the magazine. Miles had rarely apologized right out as a kid. He’d always said sorry without really saying the words.

Miles stared back at him, expression carefully calm, his hands tucked behind his back, shoulders slumped.

“Apology accepted,” Arial said, feeling like he’d missed a step somewhere.

With a nod, Miles sat down, a safe distance away. Somehow the entire scene felt fragile, like one wrong word would set either of them off. Arial wondered what would have happened if the camera hadn’t been there. He wasn’t sure if he really wanted to know.

“So, do you have any ideas for the challenge?” Miles asked. His voice was still controlled, unnaturally even, and devoid of emotion. It was like talking to a pod person.

“Not really. I mean, ‘a slow song’ isn’t really much to go on,” Arial said, shrugging. He was probably the worst sort of person to be on this sort of show. “Pop punk isn’t really known for its ballads.”

“It’s not like you _have_ to do a pop punk song,” Miles pointed out. There was a small smile creeping into the corners of his mouth. He was starting to look more like the boy Arial had been in love with. “You’re allowed to pick a song from a different genre, if you think it’ll work.”

“Miles, I don’t know if you’ve noticed but you’re in the last pop punk band in existence,” Arial said dryly.

Miles snorted, and then looked like his own laughter had surprised him. “Hey, uncalled for. Fall Out Boy had their reunion a few years back, and plenty of other bands are still alive and kicking, like us,” he said, sounding warm and amused. Arial smiled back reflexively.

“Right, terribly sorry. My mistake,” Arial said.

“Come on, you have to have at least one idea,” Miles prompted. It was so nostalgic, Miles wheedling about something, pushing him on something, that Arial almost pinched himself to remind himself what year it was.

Arial bit his lip and then very softly sang, “ _So long to all my friends, every one of them met tragic ends._ _With every passing day, I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I miss them all tonight_.”

Miles eyes widened, his lips parting slightly as Arial gently went through the song, keeping it a bit more mellow than the original. He was too tired to have Gerard Way’s passion. He was too worn out for anything than sweetly melancholic, voice low and soft.

“ _Be strong and hold my hand. Time—it comes for us, you’ll understand. We’ll say goodbye today. And I'm sorry how it ends this way_ ,” Miles sang back, his voice pure and sorrowful in a way Arial had never heard on the radio or TV- only ever when they were in his mom’s garage. “ _If you promise not to cry, then I’ll tell you just what I would say_.”

Their eyes met and, without hesitation, they both sang, “ _If I could be with you tonight, I would sing you to sleep. Never let them take the light behind your eyes_.”

They both stopped, the song coming to an abrupt halt. Arial couldn’t begin to pretend his eyes weren’t a little damp. At least he wasn’t alone in that.

“Shit, you guys are the worst,” one of the cameramen said with a wet laugh, sniffing loudly.

The moment was entirely broken.

“Right, so I think I’ll use that song, what do you think?” Arial asked, quickly ripping his eyes away from Miles to look anywhere but at him. He wished he’d brought his guitar with him, for comfort, or at least an excuse to keep his hands busy.

“Y- yeah. That’ll work. Good pick,” Miles said, sounding shaken.

~

_Senior Year_

_Summer_

Ari bit his lip, hesitating outside the familiar house. Miles’ house. It was the middle of the day, so Miles’ mom would be at work and his little sister at daycare. Miles would be alone inside. According to Felix’s texts, Miles had barely left the house in the weeks following their arguments.

It was those texts that had led Ari to stand outside Miles’ door.

He’d ignored every message and missed call from Miles and had only answered the first dozen texts Felix had sent him before he’d started ignoring those too.

He had no idea why he was there. His arm still hurt like hell, the scrapes on his palms still raw from when he fell. Because Miles had hit him. Just thinking about it scared him. That wild look in his eye. The way he’d loomed over him. The way Ari had never felt so helpless.

There was a loud popping noise, which made Ari jump, followed by several loud cheers. Fireworks. He knew why he was there. It was the beginning of July. He and Miles always spent the first week of actual summer together since they’d been kids. Waking up and not seeing Miles passed out on the floor a few feet away in a sleeping bag, junk food and DVD cases strewn across the floor had seemed so _wrong_ that morning. Ari _missed_ his best friend.

He stepped forward, hand raised to knock on the door like he hadn’t since he’d been about eight years old or so- and froze.

Felix was still texting him several times a day, incessantly pestering him, trying to fix things or at least make sure Ari was okay, since he hadn’t seen him since the night of the party, since they went to different schools. Even though Ari had stopped replying.

At first, Miles had also texted Ari- after filling up his voice mail. The first one was the only one he’d opened. All it had said was _im sorry_. Miles had texted him nearly daily, Ari hadn’t opened them. They’d eventually dwindled to a trickle, and then stopped. He hadn’t texted or called Ari in nearly a week,

Maybe he didn’t miss Ari. Maybe he didn’t care that they’d always spent the first week of summer together.

Maybe he’d given up on Ari.

It was too late. He’d run away scared and hadn’t looked back and Ari couldn’t change that.

Ari stepped back, grinding his teeth together in frustration. His hand fell to his side.

Stupid Miles, making him feel like he was at fault.

Ari turned on his heel and stomped off.

He didn’t notice the way the blinds moved, like someone had been looking through them.

~

_Present Day_

The next day dawned far too early. Singing _The Light Behind Your Eyes_ with Miles a thousand times for three days in a row had made him feel like he’d just experienced the emotional version of being sandblasted, he felt like he needed an entire day to himself to wind down a little. Instead, he was herded through the fuss of getting ready for another challenge and was thrust up on stage as the first performer, as the winner from the last challenge.

He felt shaky and off his game up there, like he’d left half his brain somewhere back at the dorm. The other competitors were seated below him, eyes all on him. The band was at their usual table, Miles seated at the center. He looked calm, unaffected, but focused. By comparison, Ari felt like a trash fire, completely unprepared despite the three days of rehearsing. Why?

The answer slammed into him full force as he took his place on stage: he didn’t want to lose.

It wasn’t that he wanted to win, or to beat the other competitors. He just didn’t want to leave. He wanted to see Miles again, find that perfect place in a song with him again. He didn’t want to lose because losing meant never being around Miles, likely for the rest of his life. For all that they were both in the music industry, they were from totally different worlds. They hadn’t bumped into each other in the half dozen years Arial had been at POP records, so they probably wouldn’t once Ari left the show. This was his last chance to be around Miles.

The music started up around him, the violins singing sad and sweet through the speakers. Ari mentally shook himself and tried to focus.

“ _So long to all my friends, every one of them met tragic ends_ ,” Ari sang, and nearly winced at how shaky and off kilter his voice sounded. He sounded like some kid trying his hand at karaoke for the first time. He rallied and tried to even his voice out, pouring every ounce of concentration he had left into the lyrics.

He didn’t want to go.

Another sour note spilled out of his lips and he fought to keep the fear and frustration from showing on his face. Even if the producers wanted him around, they couldn’t justify keeping him if he did a truly awful job. They’d already gotten argument from him and Miles, that might have been all they needed. It might be too late.

He had to do better, he’d always been the underdog in the competition. He sang a few more lines, still not getting it like he had when Miles had been singing it with him.

He didn’t want to give up, but he just wasn’t good enough, he couldn’t- his eyes met Miles’ across the stage. Miles was staring him down, not angry but determined and fierce. Like he knew Ari was capable of something better, and he was just waiting for it.

Arial’s heart leapt, his voice evened out, the words coming a little easier.

“ _Then I’ll tell you just what I would say, if I could be with you tonight_ ,” he sang, determination filling his heart as he felt himself steady as he stared back at Miles. “ _I would sing you to sleep, never let them take the light from your eyes._ ”

Sorrow and regret and determination and longing all tangled up together inside him, his voice strengthened the song soaring through the theater even as his hands beginning to shake and he felt his eyes start to sting.

“ _The light behind your eyes,_ ” he sang out one final time, feeling wrung out.

The stage was silent as the last note faded out, the only sound Arial could hear was his own ragged breathing.

Miles stared back at him, looking a little startled, his green eyes wide.

“You can go sit down,” Jamie prompted when Arial didn’t move.

Jerkily, Arial nodded and climbed down the stairs and sat down with the other competitors. He felt like his whole body was a live nerve, little tremors running through his limbs intermittently. Alice squeezed his knee, shooting him a sympathetic look. “You did _amazing_ in the second half, they’d be crazy not to notice that,” she whispered, but Arial barely heard her.

What had just happened? He’d spent the first two challenges waiting to be eliminated, and all of the sudden he wanted to stay? And just because he’d sung a single song with Miles and it had reminded him of when things had been good? Pathetic.

That didn’t change the fact that his heart sank a little lower as each competitor took the stage, each one better than the last. He had no chance. He was going to be eliminated. He’d failed. He should want it, to never see Miles again. He wanted to see him anyways.

The last competitor climbed up the stairs and Arial braced himself.

Only. It wasn’t very good? Arial stared in shock as Casey tried to turn _Chew Me Up And Spit Me Out_ into a mournful ballad, and it failed. The words just didn’t match the tone.

There was dead silence as Casey finished, a resigned look on his face. He knew he’d made a misstep.

“Everyone please leave the stage while we come to a decision on who this week’s star it, and who just didn’t shine,” Jamie said, like he couldn’t feel the strained atmosphere in the room, though his smile looked a touch forced.

Dumbly, Ariel got up and followed everyone out of the room and out to the lounge. He passed the judges table, but it was at an angle where he couldn’t see Miles’ face. Outside, Alice gently touched his elbow and said, soft enough not to be picked up by the camera, “it’s going to be alright, Arial.”

Arial nodded, his throat tight. He felt like a little kid, being so close to tears over something like this.

They settled onto the chairs and couches in the lounge, and broke into the usual post-challenge chatter, talking about how they felt they did, mistakes they’d made and things they wished they’d done better. Everyone’s eyes darted towards Arial as they spoke, but no one tried to make him talk, eyes sympathetic and relieved by turns. He couldn’t blame them for wanting to see him fail, it meant one less person to worry about having to beat. The sympathy was almost harder to bear, how hard did you need to mess up in a competitive environment to actually garner pity from your fellow competitors?

After nearly an hour of it, Arial couldn’t take it anymore. He got to his feet and muttered something about needing the washroom and ducked out of the room too quickly to seem anything but distraught.

Out of sight of the cameras, he rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes. He had to get things together. There was nothing he could do, he’d already blown his chance.

There was a clatter from the direction of the lounge, and Arial looked up, wearily expecting the cameramen to have followed him to document his mental breakdown.

But the person who rounded the corner wasn’t a cameraman. It was Grayson.

He stalked down the hall towards Arial, face screwed up in an expression that said Grayson was scared but wanted people to think he was angry instead. It was strange to be the one seeing it rather than the teenager fronting on his emotions, Arial thought distantly.

“What the hell was that?” Grayson asked heatedly, voice low to avoid anyone catching on to the drama unfolding off camera, but carrying enough force it was like being punched in the gut. He was _pissed_ , and Ari had no idea why.

“What?” Arial asked, feeling flat footed.

“Were you even trying? The first half of that song was total crap,” Grayson snapped, eyes flashing. His hands were in fists, his arms trembling with poorly-contained rage.

Arial blinked and said, almost without meaning to, “I was feeling a little off. Everyone has those moments, Grayson.”

“Not in this competition!” Grayson said, almost too loud. They both shot looks down the hallway, but it seemed like no one had heard, no cameraman appeared. “You don’t get to do that here,” he continued, only a little softer, but no less intense.

“Why do you care?” Arial asked a little helplessly. Grayson was snarling at him like Arial’s shitty performance personally offended him or something. “I thought you’d be happy with me gone.”

Amazingly enough, Arial watched as a faint flush appeared on the kid’s tanned cheeks.

“You don’t get to leave until I beat you, okay?” Grayson snarled and then turned on his heel and stomped off before Arial could respond.

“What a weird kid,” Arial muttered to the empty hallway.

Somehow, though, it had made him feel a little better.

He slunk back to the lounge a few minutes later, still feeling downhearted but at least a little more centered. It was only another twenty minutes before they were summoned back to the stage. As they lined up in front of the judges’ table, Arial’s heart began to pound.

Felix rambled on a bit, but Arial only had eyes for Miles. His face was a mask, not revealing a single thing.

“Alice, you are this week’s winner,” Kat said, a warm smile stealing across her face. “We loved your rendition of _Ocean Avenue_. Congratulations, you can leave the stage.”

Alice was beaming as she left the stage to sit below in the empty seats below.

“There were two performances that were below our expectations,” Jamie said once she was off camera. “Casey, your song choice did not suit the challenge and was a poor rendition of the song. Arial, your song was a better choice, but you were exceptionally uneven in your performance.”

Arial bit his lip and nodded, his palms going sweaty. This was it.

“We discussed which of you we felt should be sent home,” Jamie continued, voice still unflappably calm. “We couldn’t come to an agreement on which performance was worse.”

Arial blinked. That... was not what he’d been expecting. Did that mean both of them were being sent home?

“So, we’ve decided to have a mini challenge to decide,” Felix said with a smile that Arial realized must have meant the show’s producers had decided on the mini challenge. It was something that had happened on the previous two seasons, but never only on the third challenge.

“You’ll each perform a single verse and chorus of any song of your choosing,” Kat explained. “You’ll have twenty minutes to prepare. Everyone else can leave the stage.”

Grayson and the rest filed off stage obediently while Casey and Arial were taken to separate rooms to prepare in.

Arial sat down at the table inside, head reeling. Before he could start to worry over his next step, a piece of paper on the table caught his eye. The rooms were all kept rigorously clean by some unseen cleaning staff, someone had to have recently and purposefully left the note. Something one might do if they knew Arial would be in there on camera.

He unfolded the page, and read its single line: _meet me in the bathroom in 5._

There was no signature, but Arial had seen the handwriting enough times while frantically copying down chemistry homework that he didn’t need one.

For five minutes he toyed with various song ideas, trying not to let himself think about why Miles was summoning him to a bathroom, and then excused himself.

Miles was waiting inside, leaning against a sink, his face drawn.

“You got the note, good,” he said shortly.

“I only have another fifteen minutes, Miles, we have to make whatever this is quick,” Arial said.

Miles bit his lip and then said, “I don’t know if I should be telling you this- but the producers are already planning on having Casey win.”

“W-what?” Arial asked. Hopelessness sank through him like a stone.

“I just thought you should know, so you don’t blame yourself or think you didn’t try hard enough,” Miles explained, looking pained.

Arial bit back a bitter snort. So, this was what it felt like to be Grayson, he hadn’t thought he’d be a position to learn so soon. It felt even shittier than he thought it would.

He didn’t want to go. He couldn’t tell Miles that.

“Felix is on my side, but Jamie and Kat weren’t convinced, and the producers are gunning for Casey. I’d rather you win, you’re a better musician than he is,” he said.

Caught by surprise, Arial was at a loss for words. Miles… wanted him to win?

“I’m sorry, there’s nothing I can do,” Miles continued, voice soft. He paused and then said, “I have to go.” He left the bathroom before Arial could say a word more.

Well. Shit. Arial hadn’t thought he could have felt more defeated, but it seemed he’d been wrong.

He went back to the room to practicing, wondering if he should even bother to try if he was doomed from the start. Grayson’s face glowering at him came to mind and he couldn’t help his smirk. That kid would murder him if he didn’t give staying his best shot. He had ten minutes left and put them to work, singing the familiar words over and over again. There would be no accompanying instruments or light show or anything for this little challenge, he only had his voice to rely on.

It felt like seconds later and he was waiting outside the stage with Casey and a staff next to him, the cameramen waiting inside.

“What do you mean the mikes are all not working?” the staff said into their headset, sounding completely done. He snarled a few more choice words into the headset, then looked to Casey and Arial and said, “Sorry guys, technical difficulties. Someone will come let you in once things are fixed.” He disappeared behind the stage door.

“So,” Casey said, once they were alone. He was a big guy, nearly seven feet tall with broad shoulders and a deep, hearty laugh that made anyone nearby have to at least crack a smile. Under different circumstances, Arial probably would have liked the guy. Even with him being what stood between Arial and not getting kicked off the show, he couldn’t help but want to like him. He was just a genuinely nice guy. It made Arial hate himself a little for wanting to beat the pants off of him when he wasn’t sure if he really wanted to win the whole competition or if he just wanted to be around Miles a little longer. “I’m throwing the competition,” Casey continued blithely.

“I- What?” Arial asked. He could not have heard that right, could he?

“I’m throwing the competition,” Casey repeated calmly. “That’s why I picked that song, I knew it wouldn’t work, I wanted to lose.”

“I got that part, _why_?” Arial asked. Everyone but him had been there to win from the start. What the hell was happening?

“I’m friends with one of the staffers,” Casey explained, even as he belatedly checked to make sure no one was listening in. “I know we aren’t supposed to be in contact with people outside the show until filming’s over, but my buddy has been passing messages to me from my sister- she’s pregnant, due next month and her guy just skipped town on her. I gotta get out of here to help her out. I feel like shit knowing she’s dealing with all this alone.”

“So, you’re throwing the competition?” Arial said slowly. That seemed like a roundabout way to get to leave. Surely the show would understand needing to leave for family reasons.

“Contract said no outside contact,” Casey explained with a shrug. “My sister’s too stubborn to contact the producers or whatever directly to tell them she needs me, so I can’t ask to leave without them realizing I had unauthorized outside contact. I’m not getting sued over something that stupid.”

“Oh,” Arial said. He felt more than a little battered, by his shitty performance, by the sudden challenge, by Miles’ revelation and now Casey’s little surprise. He needed to take a nap, it was all too exhausting.

“Besides,” Casey added with a small knowing smirk. “Your song was pretty good near the end there, and I think you have to stick around, fix whatever’s going on between you and Miles Eliot.”

“What?” Arial said, a little strangled, staring goggle eyed at Casey.

“What?” Casey echoed with a small snort. “Did you two think you were being subtle with all the staring? I mean Arial, dude, you sang a ‘fuck you’ song while staring him down.”

Yeah, Arial wasn’t exactly subtle, but at least he hadn’t been aiming for it.

“And there was the whole ‘singing what’s essentially a sad break up song while nearly making Miles Eliot cry on camera’ thing,” Casey continued with a knowing grin. If he weren’t such a chill guy, Arial would have been working up a sincere and deep hatred for the man.

“We never dated,” Arial grumbled, feeling his ears go pink.

Before Casey could reply, they were both finally ushered on stage. Felix reminded the eventual home viewer what the rules were and then prompted Casey to go first.

“ _Go to college, a university, get a real job, that's what they said to me,_ ” Casey sang without hesitation, a smile tugging at his lips.

He wasn’t _bad_ , Arial noted. He did a decent enough job, singing part of _The Anthem_ , but it wasn’t especially inspired and the song didn’t lend itself to being sung without a band backing it up. Still it wasn’t a performance that anyone would point their finger at and say he hadn’t been trying, which Arial supposed was the point.

Then it was Arial’s turn. He took a deep breath and stepped forward. He’d picked the song thinking this was the last time he’d see Miles.  It was a song he knew like no other, since he’d listened to it on repeat for months after he’d split from Miles. He’d never been able to figure out if he’d been thinking of the song being about himself or Miles. Maybe it had been both. It was melodramatic and unsubtle and frankly he couldn’t find it in himself to give a fuck. Pop punk was all about being brutally upfront about what you were thinking and feeling, even when that wasn’t a good thing, and if Arial was good at anything, it was that.

He sang through the verse, seeing the look of recognition flashing across the band’s faces as he went.

“ _I am not afraid to keep on living, I am not afraid to walk this world alone, honey if you stay, I'll be forgiven_ ,” he sang _,_ a startled expression appearing on Miles’ face. _“Nothing you can say can stop me going home.”_

 “Thank you,” Miles said, without inflection. Arial nodded jerkily. He and Casey were taken out of the room _again_ , presumably so the producers could talk about them without feeling awkward.

“Don’t worry, man,” Casey said, clapping one enormous hand on Arial’s back. “You got this in the bag.”

Not even twenty minutes later, he was proven right.

Arial was still in the game, but only because someone else had purposefully sacrificed themself.

He was going to have to do better if he wanted to last another challenge.

~

_Senior Year_

_Fall_

“So, it’s been awhile since I’ve seen Miles around here,” Ari’s mom said, faux casual, like the thought had just occurred to her. Like it hadn’t been months. During the summer Ari had left the house for hours at a time, partly so she wouldn’t notice and bug Ari about it. But it could only work so well for so long, especially with their final year of high school about to start

“Yeah,” Ari grumbled without looking away from his computer, since he knew from experience just ignoring her wasn’t an option.

“Why don’t you see if he can come over for dinner. We could order a pizza,” his mom suggested brightly.

“I think he’s busy.”

His mom sighed and then marched around the couch, blocking his view of the TV.

“Alright, what happened,” she demanded. “Normally I can’t pry the two of you apart with a crowbar. Did you boys have an argument.”

“No,” Ari muttered sullenly.

“So, you did have one,” she said and sat down next to him, patting him on the knee. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“We didn’t have an argument,” Ari snapped.

“Ari, it’s perfectly normal for people to have disagreements. It might suck, but the important part is to not let it hurt a friendship,” his mom said. Ari glowered at the TV and refused to look at her. It was much too late for that, had been the moment Miles had grabbed him like that.

“We didn’t have a fight. Or an argument. Or a disagreement. Or whatever you want to call it. Is it so bad to not want to be around him all the time?”

“Ari-”

“And stop calling me Ari!” Arial snapped. Miles had been the one to give him that nickname when they’d been five. Hearing it only made him think of all the times Miles had used, all the different ways it had sounded. He never wanted to hear it again.

“Okay, Arial,” his mom said. She sighed deeply, and gave him what he knew was her disappointed look and left the room.

Arial sunk lower on the couch, his back popping. Under the sleeve of his shirt, the bruise had long since faded from his skin, no trace of their fight left on his body.

Miles hadn’t tried to fix things, after the first few texts. But neither had Arial.

It was too late.

It was all Miles’ fault.

Arial hated him.

He missed him.

~

_Present Day_

Somehow, Arial had found himself still there after the fourth challenge.

It was thanks to Grayson and Alice, really. They’d been put into groups of three to perform a song, and Arial had ‘happened’ to end up on their team. He supposed the producers wanted an excuse to keep him around, and being on a team with two of the highest scoring competitors was what they’d come up with. They’d sung _some nights_ at Grayson’s insistence, and though it wasn’t really Arial’s thing. Grayson’s solo near the end had blown the other teams out of the water, when he’d sung the simple line _so come on_ his voice had soared so high it had felt like he’d physically lifted Arial off the floor, his heart racing and ready to burst. That kid had some serious skill.

He and Alice were the only reason Arial was still there. Along with Casey. And the producers. Arial almost wished he’d just be eliminated, he hated knowing he wasn’t good enough and better people were being eliminated over him, thanks to the goodwill and meddling of other people. It just didn’t sit well with him.

But he also really didn’t want to go. The startled smile Miles had shot him when Arial had torn into a guitar solo on stage had warmed him to the core in a way he really didn’t want to think about.

So he didn’t.

The three of them had won the challenge, so they’d been allowed to leave and wait in the lounge while the other two teams got their critiques and the reveal of who was leaving was done.

To pass the time, the three of them tossed back and forth songs they could perform for the next challenge. They were all exhausted and more than a little loopy from the comedown off of adrenaline and not enough sleep. Arial felt like he was going a little nuts; they hadn’t been anywhere but the stage and the dorm building in nearly two weeks- the show was framed as if each challenge was spaced a week apart, but in reality they were given three days per challenge. Arial felt wrung out and like he never wanted to sing another note again in his life.

Except not really.

“ _Check yes, Juliet. Are you with me? Rain is falling down on the sidewalk_. _I won't go until you come outside,_ ” Arial sang, purposefully going off key halfway through. Grayson made a disgusted face. Alice spluttered into her drink, getting it all over the table and started laughing helplessly even as she tried to mop up the mess.

“Gross,” Grayson complained, but didn’t create the fuss Arial had half expected from him. Grayson was less of a jackass during that challenge, Arial wasn’t sure if it was due to the exhaustion or their strange little tête-à-tête or the three days of them all having to work together on a song.

“You have to admit, it’s the best song,” Arial said with a snicker. “I absolutely have to sing it next time. Everyone will be throwing their underwear at me. It is just so complex and yet attractive all at once.”

“They might be throwing rotten fruit instead,” Alice said with a snort.

“Sorry, I think I’ll have to perform it first,” Grayson said. His smile made him look years younger. Arial couldn’t help but feel a little wave of fondness for the guy. He was seriously talented and pretty cool when he wasn’t busy being an aggravating jackass. “I just love how they accurately talk about the double suicide at the end of the play.”

“How about you just do _Teenagers_ instead,” Miles suggested with a cackle. Grayson’s spine straightened and he looked capital O offended. Arial wondered why he’d disliked the kid, teenagers were hysterical to mess with. “ _They said all teenagers scare the living shit out of me_ ,” he sang. He poked Grayson in the side repeatedly until he very reluctantly joined in singing along with him, “ _They could care less as long as someone'll bleed. So darken your clothes or strike a violent pose. Maybe they'll leave you alone, but not me_.”

Arial gave up singing when it was too hard not to laugh, because seriously the song was perfect for how melodramatic Grayson was, as the youngest contestant. If it were still 2009 he’d probably have the haircut and the eyeliner and everything.

“No, no- you should do _Teenage Dirtbag_ ,” Alice said with a delighted little gasp. Grayson didn’t look convinced so she added, “Come on, it’d be perfect: _I'm just a teenage dirtbag baby, Listen to Iron Maiden maybe with me_.”

Arial laughed so hard at her poor impression of Brendon Brown’s weird singing voice that he nearly slid out of his chair.

“You know I’m _eighteen_ not sixteen,” Grayson grumbled quietly, like there was any real important difference.

“ _Oh, yeah, dirtbag, no, she doesn't know what she's missin',_ ” Alice continued, her impression only getting worse as she tried not to giggle. Grayson started to laugh too, trying to hide it behind one hand.

“Sing it like that and you’ll have my vote,” Miles said from the doorway.

The three of them froze, all staring at him.

“The battery on my mike is fried, I’m looking for a new one right now,” he said and sat down. And set what looked like a perfectly fine battery on the table “It’s like a million degrees on the stage, I was getting fried.”

“Your secret is safe with us,” Alice said with a wink. Talking like this, it made it easy to forget they were being filmed.

“Speaking of songs, you definitely should do Blink’s _Family Reunion_ ,” Miles said to Grayson, face completely straight

“Isn’t that song entirely curse words?” Grayson asked, blinking in confusion.

“And there is the joke,” Alice concluded, elbowing him lightly. Grayson looked momentarily irritated, but was too tired to maintain any sort of anger and just shrugged.

“Well it would all be bleeped out anyways,” he said, “Maybe it would mean an automatic win. A beep can’t be out of key.”

“I think that might make it out of the rules,” Miles said pensively.

“Damn, there goes any chance of my winning the next challenge,” Arial said with a sigh and flopped backwards on the couch.

“If anyone’s beeps can be off key, it would be yours,” Miles said. Arial sat up, staring at him. Miles’ body was tense, his eyes were wide, like he hadn’t meant to say that. He opened his mouth, probably to apologize.

“Wow, _rude_ ,” Arial said, mock-offended trying to make it an obvious joke, and flopped back down.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Miles’ body relax minutely.

It felt like a conversation they would have had when they were in high school. It was frighteningly comfortable.

Arial really didn’t want to think about it.

~

_One Year Post Graduation_

Years later he would remember the moment with crystalline clarity.

He was in the grocery store picking up flour, tomatoes and a bunch of other things his mom insisted were vital for the dinner she was making for their neighbours that night. He wasn’t in the best mood, he’d been exhausted when he’d gotten home from his job at the bookstore and his mom had immediately thrust a list at him and pushed him back out the door. He just wanted to get the stuff and get home, which was why he’d been cornered in the produce section by his old grade nine teacher and forced to endure an unending conversation composed entirely of small talk.

On the overhead speakers, the music changed from a generic pop song to something with actual instruments, which was a small improvement.

“You should really consider going to college, or even trade school,” Mrs. Young was saying, echoing about twenty other well-meaning busybodies Arial had been forced to listen to.

“School was never really my thing,” Arial hedged, trying very hard not to roll his eyes. The last thing he needed was his mom to sit him down at nineteen years old to lecture him on being polite _again_.

“Well that doesn’t-” she paused mid-sentence, tilting her head and an expression of concentration appearing on her face. “Isn’t that Miles Eliot? On the radio?” she asked.

Arial frowned, focusing on the music playing on the speakers. It was scratchy and faint, but he’d recognize that voice anywhere.

“You boys were always such good friends,” Mrs. Young said, apparently oblivious to Arial’s strained expression. “I could never let the two of you sit together, you never got any work done.”

Arial forced a polite smile that looked like a grimace.

“It’s such a shame you two had that argument,” she said. “It sure was strange for all of us to see you apart, even now I half expect to see that boy hanging around somewhere.”

On the speaker, Miles’ voice rose to a crescendo, the guitars and drums building up to a frenzied pace.

Arial grit his teeth and muttered, “Well. You know how things go.”

Mrs. Young must have finally noticed Arial’s discomfort and quickly said, “Yes of course, most children grow apart as they get older.”

Arial nodded jerkily and then muttered an excuse and left the store, leaving the basket of groceries behind, Miles’ voice drifting after him faintly.

Even years later, he couldn’t get away from that asshole. It wasn’t that his voice sent a wave of nostalgic longing through him. He didn’t miss him. He hated him.

~

_Present Day_

Arial stood on stage after the fifth challenge, and once again was in the bottom three.

There was a very good chance this was it. Again. It seemed to be a running theme, but the fact of the was that he wasn’t even comparable to the hidden giants of talent he was up against.

He’d put all that he could into _Anklebiters_ , the objective having been to perform a song by someone of the opposite gender, but his best was only okay compared to the other competitor’s average.

Miles’ eyes had met his during the line _someday you’re going to be alone_ and Miles’ mouth had twitched into a tiny, nearly unnoticeable smile and Arial had just... wanted more. He wanted to keep being the person to put that smile on Miles’ face. When had he gone from being on the show out of sheer spite to... this?

He still was trying not to think about that thing, but it was getting harder.

Especially now, with his head once again on the chopping block.

“Jeremy, I’m sorry, but you aren’t the next star,” Kat said. To Arial’s left the tiny, dark haired man let out a small gasp of breath, nearly a sob, and nodded jerkily before leaving the stage.

“Arial, Mia, you have made it through this challenge, you may leave the stage,” Felix said.

As he left, Miles eyes locked onto his again. There was an expression on them, one that Arial didn’t know how to identify as anything more specific than ‘desperate’.

The post-challenge interview was a chore and a half, though a routine he had gotten used to. He felt worn thin, the days were bleeding together. Somehow, he suspected whoever lost the next challenge would almost be grateful just to get away and have a break from the constant challenges and cameras and forced cheerfulness of a reality TV show. Somehow, as time went on and he became more tired, he wanted to leave less and less.

Finally freed for the evening, Arial gratefully went back to the dorm and went straight to bed.

Robin was also there, listening to music through his headphones, and Grayson was, thankfully, missing. Though they’d become less antagonistic after their challenge together, Grayson was still an _ordeal_. He was just so focused on winning the show 24/7. It was like rooming with the energizer bunny. Especially since he was so inexplicably interested in Arial and whatever he was doing. It was _weird_.

Not long after he’d laid down, there was a light tapping at the door. Arial was beyond being capable of dealing with anyone and was also already in pajamas, so he left it for Robin to deal with.

“Hey, someone in the hall wants to talk to you,” Robin said, re-entering the room. He looked concerned. “Is everything alright? He asked, sitting on the edge of Arial’s bed.

“I… don’t know?” Arial said, as fear shot through him.

What was happening? Was he being disqualified or kicked off the show for some reason? He didn’t want to go. He wanted to see Miles again. The thought shocked him, and yet didn’t seem surprising at all.

In the hallway was one of the many underlings for the show, identifiable by her headset, her t-shirt that said TSP STAFF in neon letters, and her exhausted under-caffeinated expression.

Her eyes darted around suspiciously, then she beckoned him closer and whispered, “Mr. Eliot wants to see you. He’s waiting outside.”

Arial stared at her, not sure he’d heard her quite right.

“Are you high?” he asked, looking around for the cameras. There were none, probably in the lounge filming the last few night owls worrying over the next day’s challenge.

“I’m serious,” she said and pushed a hand through her short pink hair. “Look, I can sneak you out to see him without getting caught, but we have to go soon.” Her expression said that she also did not appreciate being the proxy for what appeared to be a booty call.

“Just... let me put some pants on,” Arial said and went back inside to dig through his clean clothing pile.

From his bed, Robin looked up, expression concerned. “Everything cool?” he asked.

“Yeah. Fine. I’ll be back later,” he said and the paused, jeans half on, “And, maybe, you could just not mention this to Grayson?” The last thing he wanted to do was fan the flames for another argument about Arial cheating or something.

Robin raised one immaculate eyebrow, but said, “Okay, will do. Be careful, whatever you’re doing.”

“Will do,” Arial said, feeling oddly touched over the concern.

The staff person was still waiting in the hall when he reemerged, and took him through the buildings, using her keycard to take him through sections of the building he normally wouldn’t have access to, all abandoned that late at night.

“Okay, he’s in the silver car there.” she pointed to a sleek car idling at the curb. “He’ll have to find a way to get you back in, I’m going home.”

Before Arial could protest, she disappeared back inside, the door automatically locking behind her.

With no other options available to him, Arial approached the car hesitantly. The windows were tinted darkly, making it impossible to see its occupants. If this was some sort of prank, there was no avoiding it.

Arial tapped lightly on the passenger window and was startled when it rolled down, revealing Miles in the driver’s seat.

He jerked his head, indicating for Arial to get in, which he did, staring at Miles the whole time.

“See, the thing is, _The Light Behind Your Eyes_ isn’t meant to be a sad song,” Miles said without preamble. The interior of the car was dark, making it nearly impossible to see his expression, though his face was angled towards Arial.

“Did you seriously lure me out here to talk about my song for the competition? One that I already performed ages ago?” Arial asked disbelievingly. He wasn’t even angry, just completely baffled.

“It’s supposed to be inspiring,” Miles continued doggedly, like he hadn’t heard what Arial had said. “Its message isn’t ‘I’m leaving, miss me’, it’s ‘you can do it on your own when I’m not here, keep going no matter what’, _Sometimes we must grow stronger and you can be stronger when I'm gone._ ”

“Miles-”

“But the thing is- I don’t want to do that anymore,” Miles said, his voice actually shaking.

Arial got the feeling he wasn’t just talking about the song anymore.

“I missed you- I _miss_ you so goddamn much, Ari. I want. You. In my life, I mean. We’ve both been doing the solo thing for so long, we can do it but I don’t want to _have to_ ,” Miles said, and then let out an actual sob. “The song says _If I could be with you tonight_ , well if- if I had the choice I’d- fuck I’m screwing this up-”

“I missed you too!” Ari said in a rush, the words just tumbling out of him, the truth he’d been so focused on pretending wasn’t there in the back of his mind. He said, voice rough and almost completely ruined, “I want to try and be friends again. It’s stupid and probably not going to end well, but that’s what I want.”

Miles reached out to him over the center console and Arial met him halfway, clinging to him just as hard as Miles was clinging to him. They both were crying quietly, but in the dark it was easy to pretend they were just enjoying an unusually long, desperate hug.

Eventually though, Arial had to admit, “Okay, you’re going to have to let me go, this console is totally crushing my junk.”

“Can’t have that,” Miles replied with a snicker, and let go. Even in the low light, Arial could see how puffy his eyes had gotten, how red his nose was. They were both pathetic messes.

Arial shivered and sat back in his seat and asked, “So are we going somewhere in your fancy car or what?”

“Want to come over to my apartment?” Miles asked, sounding shy and hesitant. It was a rare sound from him and warmed Arial down to his toes. “I can bring you back in the morning before anyone notices you’re missing.”

It was probably a stupid idea. It could get him kicked off the show. But Arial didn’t want to leave Miles right then, when they were both feeling so raw.

So he said, “Feed me pizza and I’m yours.”

“You always were a cheap date,” Miles joked and pulled the car onto the road.

Miles’ apartment wasn’t far away, only five minutes by car at that time of night on a Wednesday when the streets were slowly emptying out.

“I’m only renting this place while the show is being filmed,” Miles explained as they waited for the elevator. “It was cheaper than a hotel and my place is a good two hours away when traffic’s bad.”

“You live here? In the city, I mean” Arial said, surprised. Last he’d heard, from his mom who still talked to Miles’ mom occasionally, was that Miles and the band were living in LA.

“We relocated over here almost a year ago,” Miles said as they entered the apartment. It was fairly small, not a fuck-off gigantic penthouse that Arial had been a little worried it would be, and was only slightly bigger than his own, though in a much fancier building and with nicer furniture. Miles Eliot, former big deal and now just a medium sized deal, probably didn’t have any furniture saved from dumpsters.

“I needed to get out of LA, it wasn’t good for my health. My therapist was the one to suggest it, but I’d been thinking about it for a while. And the band was happy to move a little closer to where all our families are,” he continued, tossing his jacket on a chair carelessly.

“Therapist?” Arial said, startled. He remembered Miles’ mom making him see a counselor when they’d been fourteen and Miles’ anger had only started to get worse as puberty started to really take hold. Miles had hated it, had shouted about how he didn’t need to be _fixed_ and had refused to cooperate with the counselor. Eventually, his mom had given up and no one had brought it up again.

Miles shot him a quick darting glance, not embarrassed or shy, but more evaluating, like he was trying to weigh Arial up from that single word.

“Yeah,” he said after a pause. “Therapist. I started seeing her a few years ago. I was... not dealing with stress well. To put it mildly. And...” he sighed deeply, turning to face Arial properly, looking a bit nervous. “Well, I needed to deal with my anger problems. They were bad as a kid, but it only got worse as I got older and was under more stress. Ask the band, I was pretty unpleasant to be around. It’s a miracle we didn’t break up after the first album.”

“Oh,” Arial said, a little lamely. He didn’t know what to say, he was filled with so many feelings- pride, surprise, wonder... But Miles was still giving him that unusually vulnerable look, like he wasn’t sure if he was waiting for Arial to either laugh in his face or not, so Arial added, with genuine feeling, “That’s great Miles. I’m proud of you.”

Tension dropped from Miles’ shoulders immediately, and his exhaled sharply. “Thanks. That means a lot to me... Especially because at first I was doing it for you, sort of.”

“What?” Arial asked. It had been nearly ten years since they’d seen each other. _Stress in Idleness_ had started making waves around the time he’d been twenty, almost three years after he and Miles had gone their separate ways. It just didn’t add up.

“Come sit down, I swear I’ll explain,” Miles said. They settled down on the couch, nearly the entire length of the thing separating them. It felt so ridiculously awkward that Arial had to hold back an uncomfortable laugh. If sixteen-year-old Arial could see them now...

“It was right around the time we were trying to come up with material for the second album,” Miles said. His pose was relaxed, but one look at his eyes revealed how uncomfortable he found the conversation. “There was a lot of pressure on us, on me especially as the face of the band, to come up with something good, since the label was expecting us to be a one album band. Nothing seemed to go right, some of our instruments got lost at the end of our last tour, we were having a hard time booking time in a studio, Jamie was dealing with tendonitis...

“It was terrible and all of us were constantly bickering because we were all in such awful moods. Then Kat’s mom ended up in the hospital and Kat needed to fly out to see her. It was just before when we were about to finally go record something.” Miles paused and shut his eyes and sighed heavily. “I was a total asshole about it,” he admitted and opened his eyes again. A bitter smile stole across his face. “I blew up at her about leaving the band when we needed her and said some really terrible things to her. She was already upset and on edge- her mom had cancer for god’s sake- and she yelled back at me. And I- I nearly slapped her for it,” Miles said. It sounded like the words pained him to say, like each syllable was being carved into his flesh. “Felix was the one who stopped me, thank god. I wouldn’t ever be able to forgive myself if I’d actually hurt her.

“Anyways, Felix yelled at me- as he should- and I’ll never forget what he said: Miles, stop treating us like Ari, do you really want to hurt us like you hurt him?”

Arial exhaled sharply, the words hitting him like a sledgehammer.

Miles shot him a look, one that said he knew what he was feeling exactly. “Yeah. Everyone had been avoiding bringing you up, Monroe didn’t even know your name. It was like getting punched in the face by my past. I’d been carrying around so much guilt, and I’d been refusing to even admit I’d screwed up at the same time.”

Miles breathed deeply several times, looking worn out. It made Arial feel like an asshole, but he couldn’t help but ask, “And then what happened?”

Miles smiled, exhausted, and said, “Well Kat took off, we pushed the second album back a few months, the label yelled at me about that, Felix yelled at them back and I started seeing Mrs. Hernandez. I didn’t want to go, at first, I’d hated counsellors when I’d been in high school because it had always seemed like they were telling me ‘just stop being angry’ and I was like ‘what do you think I’ve been trying to do?’ Mrs. Hernandez was different, when I finally told her that- I think it was like a month after I started to talk to her- she looked me dead in the eye and said ‘It’s fine to be angry, just don’t be an asshole to other people because of it’.”

Arial snickered and then slapped a hand over his mouth, and said, horrified, “I am so sorry-”

“It’s fine,” Miles said, chuckling. “That’s pretty much what I did to- it was exactly what I needed someone to tell me, at the time. And it was pretty hysterical coming from this stern Mexican lady who was old enough to be my grandma.” His face sobered quickly and he said, “I know I already apologized, but I need to say it again, I’m really sorry. It wasn’t fair of me to take my anger out on you like that when we were teenagers. I’m sorry for scaring you like that. I was so scared I actually hurt you.”

Arial bit his lip and then said, “It was only a bruise. You did really scare me, I was terrified, at the time. But I shouldn’t have avoided you for so long after that. I should have let you talk to me when you tried to approach me all those times.”

He’d just been so angry and scared and frustrated that he’d taken off the second it looked like Miles was going to talk to him and had ignored and deleted every message he’d gotten from him. At first, he’d still talked to Felix, but after a month of Miles and Arial’s feud he’d started hinting and then insisting they make up and Arial had blocked him out too.

Miles shook his head firmly. “No. That’s on me. It’s not like that last time was the first time I scared you like that,” he said, his eyes going shadowed. “I was a real asshole, especially when I didn’t get my way. That’s part of the reason I was such an asshole to you at first when you showed up on the show- I kept losing my cool, like I haven’t since I started working with Mrs. Hernandez. It really freaked me out, felt like I was a teenager again, completely out of control. But I shouldn’t have taken that out on you, I’m an adult, I know better.”

“Me showing up unexpectedly and then singing _when you see my face, hope it gives you hell_ probably didn’t help,” Arial said. “I’m not going to lie, I was really angry at you, have been for years- that’s why I agreed to come on the show, because I wanted to dump all that on you. But I’ve realized how much that anger and hate really erased how much fun we had, it just became everything in my memory.”

“We did have some good times,” Miles agreed mildly, some of the regret fading from his eyes.

But he still looked burdened by the past, and Arial had just about reached his limit for reliving history for the moment, so he said, “I was promised pizza.”

Miles face lightened further. “That you were,” he said, digging his phone out of his pocket. “Pepperoni, banana peppers and extra cheese still good?”

It was ridiculous to be so touched by Miles remembering how he liked pizza eight odd years later, but he’d never claimed to be sensible.

Miles ordered the pizza and dug some beer out of his fridge, tossing one to Arial carelessly.

“Felix was really happy to see you,” Miles said out of the blue, after they’d been sitting in semi-comfortable silence for nearly twenty minutes.

“It’s been awhile,” Arial said carefully.

“He’s seeing this sound tech guy for the last few years,” Miles continued, something odd about his voice. Arial frowned, wondering why Miles was bringing this up. He certainly hoped it didn’t have anything to do with their final argument- he wasn’t nearly inebriated enough to crack that can of worms.

“Good for him,” Arial settled on after an awkwardly long pause.

“They haven’t made it common knowledge, Dave is pretty media-shy, but I think Felix is planning on proposing in the next few months. After this show is done with.”

“Felix, getting _married_?” Arial asked disbelievingly. Felix had always been a total flirt, with anyone who’d let him get away with it, though he was rarely serious. It had been a mild uproar when he’d refused to spend a moment in the closet, even when Stress in Idleness had cracked the top 100 and he ended up being one of the few openly bisexual celebrities.

“Yeah, it’s still kinda bizarre seeing them together,” Miles admitted. “Dave’s so low key and chill, Felix mellows out when they’re together. It’s just plain _weird_ even after a few years.”

“Huh,” Arial said, struggling to fit the words ‘Felix’ and ‘mellow’ in the same sentence. It was like saying subtle neon.

“Just thought you’d want to know,” Miles said casually in a way that Arial remembered from moments when Miles really deeply cared but didn’t want anyone to know _that_.

The door buzzed with the pizza delivery and Miles got up to answer it, leaving Arial in the living room.

“What-why-” Arial spluttered at his retreating back.

Miles returned with pizza that smelled so good that Arial’s stomach growled reminding him that he hadn’t eaten in... Well he couldn’t actually remember. Getting answers would have to wait until after they ate.

But after they ate Miles had to show him this song he’d co-written, and then Arial had wanted another beer and somehow they’d ended up slumped together giggling about some old memory.

“ _There’s a story at the bottom of this bottle, ‘n I’m the pen_ ,” Miles sang, shockingly on key for someone who was laying down with their face half smushed into a couch cushion.

“Okay. Right. You must be totally smashed if you’re singing All Time Low songs _,_ you always hated them,” Arial said and sighed deeply. “No more beer for you.” He stole Miles’ bottle and drained the last few mouthfuls and set it on the floor.

“I’ve only had two,” Miles complained, but made no move to get another from the fridge.

“This is pretty familiar,” Arial couldn’t help but remark. He could remember dozens of late afternoons and slow, languid nights when he and Miles would ‘borrow’ beer from their parents and would curl up on Arial’s bed, often along with his guitar.

“ _Beverly hills_ ,” Miles started to sing with a snicker. Instinctively, without even thinking about it, Arial smacked him in the face with a throw pillow.

“God, don’t start that,” he groaned. “I still can’t listen to that song. You ruined it for me forever.”

Miles rolled onto his back, nearly putting his head in Arial’s lap and blinked up at him, looking confused. Arial was reminded of a thousand similar scenes in high school and had to bite back a sigh. Some things never changed, it seemed.

“What?” Miles asked. “I can’t have sung it _that_ badly.”

“It was less your singing and more you _literally pinning me to a bed_ ,” Arial muttered grumpily. If they could have an honest heart to heart about missing each other, they could talk about a moment in time that had fueled nearly half of teenage Arial’s fantasies, preferably without shame. Or at least much shame. He was an adult he could totally handle it. It had been years ago, it really didn’t matter. Which was why Arial still couldn’t listen to the song without blushing.

Miles expression grew sharper, all traces of inebriation leaving him, his eyes focusing on Arial’s face intently. “Did I hurt you then, or something?” He asked, a worried expression stealing across his face. Like he actually thought that was why Arial couldn’t listen to the song even years later.

“What are you talking about,” Arial grumbled, covering his burning face with both hands. “I still can’t listen to _Beverly Hills_ without wanting to jerk off. You ruined that song for me forever.”

Miles sat up so sharply that the top of his head would have smacked into Arial’s chin if he hadn’t jerked backwards out of the way, nearly taking both of them off the couch.

“What?” He asked, eyes wide as saucers, clutching Arial’s shoulders for balance.

“Miles, you knew about my enormous crush on you, _what do you think_?” Arial said, irritation and nearly a decade of embarrassment making his voice sharp.

“You had a crush on me?” Miles demanded, his eyes only getting wider.

“You didn’t know?” Arial yelped. He’d been operating under the assumption Miles had known and either hadn’t cared or had been polite enough to pretend not to know ever since he was approximately thirteen years old. Everyone and their dog had told Arial he was the exact opposite of subtle, Miles _had_ to have known. “Miles, I climbed into your lap and made out with you, what the fuck did you think that was?”

“You were drunk!” Miles shot back, sounding a little hysterical. “Someone brought the kiss up at the party and you patted them on the face and said _shhh, don’t tell Miles_. While I was sitting next to you. What was I supposed to think?”

“I was drunk on absinthe, you can’t expect me to make sense!” Arial snapped, feeling helpless and out of control like a man whose perspective on his past had just been abruptly turned on its head. “Why didn’t you ever mention the kiss?”

“Because _you_ never brought it up! I thought you were embarrassed, so I never mentioned it,” Miles said. “I was _trying_ to be respectful. If you were figuring out your sexuality or something I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or put pressure on you.”

“I never brought it up, because I thought you were pretending it hadn’t happened,” Arial whined and then had to cover his face because he’d never thought the pair of them could ever be so monumentally stupid. “I thought you were straight and humouring me or something.”

“What the _fuck_ , Ari,” Miles said and started to laugh so hard he nearly fell off the couch. “No seriously, what the fuck. I sang _what would you do if I told you that I la, la, la, la, loved you_ on stage with you in front of the entire school while staring into your eyes, did you think I was straight then? I _wanted_ to sing it to you, that’s why I was being such a little shit about using that song for the talent show.”

“The next line was _cause you know I la, la, la, lie_. And you were always doing shit like that all the time, especially on stage,” Arial snapped defensively, crossing his arms tightly. “You pinned me to a bed and didn’t seem to notice how incredibly hard you made to me while you sang the _least sexy song in the history of pop punk_ in my ear.”

“Oh Christ,” Miles said, raking both hands through his messy hair, making the dark curly strands nearly stand on end. To Arial’s astonishment, he actually appeared to be _blushing_. It was impressive given his deeply tanned skin but more importantly, Miles _never_ blushed. What the hell was happening?

“I didn’t even realize what it must have looked like until afterwards,” Miles admitted. “I was like washing dishes two days later or some shit and it hit me all at once that I’d literally had you underneath me. I had to leave the room- my _mom_ was there- it was like getting hit by the boner fairy unexpectedly.”

“Christ,” Arial said faintly. How could they both have been so oblivious? They’d been friends for years, and they’d never noticed this happening?

“Why did you think I got so pissed about you kissing Felix?” Miles asked, his voice getting raw and his expression getting pained.

“I thought you were pissed I was kissing a guy, or something,” Arial said, unable to look him in the eye.

“I was _jealous_ , Ari,” Miles said. He shook him lightly by the shoulders until Arial met his gaze “You wouldn’t talk about that time you kissed me, and were pretending it hadn’t happened, I thought you were struggling with being gay or something and was letting you figure things out- and then there you were making out with Felix in the middle of a party. Of course I was pissed. I should have kept that to myself, but I was so awful at dealing with my own shit that I took it all out on you instead.”

“You were making out with some chick,” Arial grumbled, his heart racing. “I was angry. Felix was there and I was smashed. It seemed like a good idea for about two seconds. I thought you were reasserting your heterosexuality or some bullshit”

“I’m bisexual, I did that because I was seventeen and you’d been _grinding on me_ for like an hour,” Miles protested loudly, hands flailing a little. “It was that or stick my tongue down your probably-figuring-out-your-sexuality throat!”

They both fell silent, marveling at their own sheer obliviousness. It was like looking under the couch for spare change and finding a bar of gold. Or a dead body. Arial couldn’t think of words or a proper simile or anything to explain how ridiculously baffled he felt.

Finally, Miles flopped back with an exhausted laugh, said, “We seriously should have used our words. Christ.”

“I have a better idea,” Arial said. He put his hands on Miles shoulders and leant forward a little, making his intent clear, staring up at Miles’ face. He’d been fairly cowardly as a teenager, running away and never saying anything. He could do better now, even if it scared the crap out of him. It might have been a terrible idea, but somehow Arial thought it was better than doing nothing. “Can I?” he asked softly.

“Yes,” Miles breathed out and pulled him in.

Arial had kissed plenty of people since high school, had had a fair few boyfriends and casual lovers, and kissing had ranged from dismal to mind blowing. He was no inexperienced virgin with kisses.

But none of them had felt quite so satisfying in such a bone-deep kind of way. It was like coming home.

Miles exhaled sharply against his mouth, his lips gentle and soft against Arial’s. Arial groaned and parted his lips, clinging to Miles’ shoulders. The intensity grew and Miles abruptly pulled away gasping for breath.

“We could have been doing that for years,” Arial said hoarsely, unconsciously licking his lips.

Miles’ eyes zeroed in on them then flicked back up to meet Arial’s. “Nah, we were both too stupid for that, we would have screwed up somehow,” he said and reeled Arial back in, biting Arial’s bottom lip. Arial groaned, a bolt of desire lancing through his body. He grabbed at Miles’ hair and pushed into his body, kissing him harder. Miles’ arms wrapped around him tightly, one around his back, fingertips clinging to the back of Arial’s neck. The other snaked lower, Miles hesitated then grabbed a handful of Arial’s ass. Arial half groaned, half laughed at that, hips twitching forward helplessly and then again when he felt a hardness against his thigh. Miles was hard, just from kissing Arial. He’d done that.

Arial cried out loudly, writhing against him, desperate to get closer, to get _more_ of anything. Miles mouth pulled away, and then moved to Arial’s throat, leaving tiny biting kissed there. He moved upwards to Arial’s ear.

“You don’t know how often I thought about this,” he whispered, punctuating this by biting the lobe of his ear gently. Pleasure shot through Arial and he moaned loudly, surprising even himself.

“I might have an idea,” Arial groaned, sliding his hands under Miles shirt and running his fingers over the soft skin he found. “That time you pinned me alone...”

Arial buried his face in Mile’s throat and licked the salty-sweet skin, delighting the hint of a flush he found and the faint hitching moan he caused when he dragged his teeth over the tense muscles where neck met shoulder.

Miles ground his hips against Arial’s thigh. “Christ, you don’t know how many times I jerked off thinking about you underneath me like that, I can’t believe I did that,” he said. Then froze and carefully pulled Arial back. “Can I?” he asked, gently pushing Arial down, light enough Ari could have easily resisted. “Ari, can I?”

The old nickname felt _right_ and everything clicked into place. Ari groaned loudly and flopped backwards bonelessly. “Yes,” he hissed and reached up, trying to pull Miles down on top of him. “C’mere,” he demanded, tugging at his arms. “Miles, come here. Hold me down.”

Miles was on him in an instant, knees on either side of Ari’s hips, his weight comforting and hot in equal parts.

“You need to stop being so attractive,” Miles said, mock sternly, even as he shifts his weight on Ari’s hips in the most delightful way. “Or else this might be over a lot faster than expected.”

In reply Ari grinned and moved his arms over his head. He gave a theatrical moan and arched up, and then moaned for real when Miles’s weight slid forward a little, hands latching onto Ari’s wrists, pushing down cautiously.

“This okay?” Miles asked, his mouth hovering just above his ear. Despite the caution in his voice, teeth nipped at Ari’s ear, scraping ever-so-lightly and making him shiver.

“What the fuck do you think,” Ari said, unable to hold back another small moan at the feeling of being held down, hips twitching uselessly. Positioned as he was, sitting on Ari’s waist, Ari met only air and hissed a breath out at that.

“Tell me if you need me to stop,” Miles said, mouth trailing back down to Ari’s throat, the skin already over sensitive.

“N-not going to be a problem,” Ari said, eyes rolling back as Miles decided to get on the give-Ari-a-hickey train. “S-shit d-don’t-”

In an instant Miles was off of him, eyes looking wide and guilty.

Ari couldn’t help but role his eyes. “That’s not what I meant,” he said, a little impatiently. “I just don’t want to explain to anyone about a mysterious hickey tomorrow.”

Miles’ face softened in understanding and he crawled back on top of Ari, mouth going back to the same place on his throat, mostly lips and tongue and not pressing hard enough to leave any marks. “Gotcha,” he said, breath distractingly warm against Ari’s skin, making him really want to just say _fuck it_ and have to deal with snide comments and side long looks if Miles would just stop _teasing_ him.

Miles’s breath was warm against his skin, driving him crazy as he worked his way across Ari’s neck achingly slowly. Ari couldn’t hold back a low groan when Miles hit a spot just under his ear that made him see stars, his whole body jerking uselessly under Miles’ weight. He wanted to sink his hands into Miles’ hair, hold on to his shoulders, anything, but couldn’t move his arms out of Miles’ grip. He knew the second he asked, Miles would let him go, but somehow the not being able to touch just made him run a little warmer, made the breath catch in his throat.

Miles pulled away, his eyes all pupil, his lips just a little puffy and slick. The way he looked at Ari, like he was a fucking _meal_ was enough to make him shiver.

“So, you just going to sit on me all night or are you going to actually have sex with me?” Ari demanded, ruining it with how breathless he sounded.

Miles smirked and pushed Ari’s wrists into the couch a little harder, smile widening at the little _ah_ Ari made at that. “I dunno, might just stay here, enjoy the view,” he said languidly and then gasped when Ari glowered and rolled his hips up as hard as he could.

“Or not,” he said, leaning down to kiss Ari deeply, his whole body leaning into him. Miles ground down against him, tiny little jerks, like he couldn’t quite stop himself and pulled away with a gasp. Ari tried to follow his lips, nearly forgetting his arms were pinned down.

Miles worked a hand in between them, fumbling to get the zipper of Ari’s jeans open and got a rough hand around Ari’s cock, making him groan low in his throat.

Ari wasn’t going to last, which was ridiculous, neither of them had even taken their pants off for god’s sake, but it was _Miles_.

“You- ah- you to,” Ari managed to gasp out, trying to buck up into Mile’s hand. Miles made an irritated noise, but complied, leaning back to hastily undo his own pants and shove them halfway off before leaning back down over Ari. Their cocks slid together, Miles’ hand guiding them in a slow, awkward, _delicious_ glide.

“A-Ari,” Miles gasped out, and jerked down a little harder, and a second later there was a wash of warmth across Ari’s stomach. Ari groaned, pushing his face into Miles’ shoulder and managed two more jerky thrusts before he came.

Miles exhaled heavily and flopped next to Ari, their legs still tangled up. He paused and then-

“Did you just _wipe_ your hang on my pants?” Ari demanded, unable to find the energy to do more than roll his head to face Miles’ direction.

“They were already dirty,” Miles pointed out without a shred of remorse.

“I have to _wear_ them back to the dorm tomorrow,” Ari replied and then couldn’t hold back a snicker. “Oh my god, we just had sex. Fifteen-year-old me would be so jealous.”

“You are such a weirdo,” Miles said, voice warm, and pressed a soft kiss to Ari’s temple.

After an endless moment where they both lay catching their breath, minds reeling with what they’d just done, Ari said, “Okay, we seriously need to get up, we are absolutely disgusting.”

“I do also have a bed we could sleep on instead of a couch,” Miles said, not sounding entirely sold on the whole moving idea.

Neither of them moved.

“Ugh, fine,” Ari said, once the itching feeling of dried come was unbearable. He rolled to his side and then climbed over Miles to stand up. “Where do you keep your bathroom?”

“Sorry, it’s in my other pants, get back down here,” Miles said, making ineffectual grabbing motions at Ari’s decidedly gross jeans.

Ari rolled his eyes and stepped out of reach. “Nice try,” he said, spotting a door that lead to what had to be a bathroom.

He cleaned himself up, then did the best he could with his jeans, Miles joining him a few minutes later.

“Come to bed,” he said, once they were both cleaned up, looking absolutely delighted at being able to say those words.

Ari grinned and followed him into the bedroom, curling close to him under the covers.

He fell asleep in seconds, a smile still tugging at the corners of his mouth.

~

Ari woke up to the faint sound of Miles singing. Half asleep, he smiled at the familiar sound and stretched luxuriously, enjoying the music and the softness of the bed.

Without a full band backing him or having been refined in a studio, Miles’ voice was different, not radio perfect but all the more heartfelt. It had been so long since he’d heard Miles sing like that.

Somehow, Ari realized this wasn’t quite right.

He sat up, and the whole previous night flooding back to him.

He should have been at least a little freaked out by all that happened. He wasn’t. Everything felt right, like it had all clicked into place. It felt like everything was the way it was meant to be.

He just slipped out of bed and followed the sound of Miles’ voice, a deep sense of peace coursing through him. He’d gotten maybe four hours of sleep, but he felt better rested and more refreshed since he’d come onto the show.

“ _Hey there, shadow, you didn't seem to care at all when you watched me go_ ,” Miles sang quietly, completely lacking his usual showmanship or melodrama. It was just him with a guitar in his lap, slumped in a chair facing the window. His voice was rough with sleep and achingly melancholic.

“ _I know young love is just a dream, we were only seventeen,_ ” Miles continued.

And _fuck_. That hit him right in the heart. It was early, he still felt rubbed raw from the day before, there was no stopping the tears that threatened to burble up.

“ _But you're the only love I've known._ ”

That was it, Ari couldn’t take it. He stepped into the room proper, the floor creaking under his feet. Miles’ fingers fumbled and he stopped playing.

Miles twisted in his chair, setting the guitar carefully on the floor, and spotted Ari. “Good morni- hey what’s wrong?”

Embarrassed, Ari scrubbed at his face roughly. “Nothing. Just that song... Ignore me, I’m being dumb,” he said and then, hoping to distract Miles from his dumb overwrought emotions, asked, “Where’s the song from?”

Frowning, Miles got out of his chair and crossed the room saying, “I wrote it.”

“Just now?” Ari asked. Miles’ voice might have sounded rough, but the lyrics hardly sounding incomplete.

“No,” Miles replied. “I wrote it a few years ago. Sort of. but it didn’t fit the sound of the band and I didn’t want to change it to make it work, so it’s just been sitting on the shelf.”

“How long ago?” Ari asked, already pretty sure he knew he answer.

Miles sighed and rubbed a hand through his already messy hair, making it stand on end. “About a year and a half after we split, right after the band started to make waves. Parts of it were stuff you and me worked on together, the chorus mostly. I didn’t want to abandon it completely, even if I’d driven you out of my life.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Ari said, and honest to god had to stifle a sob. Christ, he’d never felt so like a teenager since he’d actually been a teenager. He sniffled miserably, feeling like emotion was just crashing over him like a tangible, never ending wave.

The song was about him. Of course it was. Miles’ mom had nicknamed him ‘little shadow’ when he’d been a kid, since he’d followed Miles everywhere. They’d been seventeen when they’d had that final argument. They’d been in love.

“Shit, Ari, come on, tell me what’s wrong?” Miles asked, grabbing him by the shoulders and trying to get him to tip his head up. Ari tensed up further, keeping his chin pressed firmly against his chest so he wouldn’t have to look Miles in the eye while he lost his shit. It was embarrassing enough to be falling to pieces over nothing as it was.

“It’s nothing, I’m just- I’m fine. Give me a minute,” Ari mumbled and pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes like he could force the tears back up where they came from.

“You’re clearly not,” Miles said sharply, making Ari tense further. Miles let go of him abruptly but didn’t step back. “Shit. Sorry. I just- I mean, it’s okay to not be fine. Just- let me help you. Please. Tell me what’s going on in that big head of yours.”

Ari dropped his hands and sighed, straightening upright, but still didn’t meet Miles’ gaze. “I just can’t get over how many years we wasted. I spent so much of my time being pissed and scared and angry at you,” he finally said. “I just wish... I don’t know what I wish. It feels like we lost so much time.”

Miles didn’t say anything for a very long moment and then gently took Ari by the shoulders again and said, “We can’t change what’s happened. We might have wasted time, but what’s happened. And we have time now. There’s no rush.”

“I just missed you so much,” Ari finally admitted, biting his lip and finally looking up. “I just can’t get over that. I never want to feel that way again. It was like losing half of- of not just my heart. Half of everything I was. Christ I feel like I’m seventeen again,” he said with a wet snort and scrubbed at his face again. “This is terrible.”

“I missed you too,” Miles replied. “We won’t ever make those mistakes again, alright? Even we’re not that stupid.”

Ari snorted and leant into him for a kiss.

It was the complete opposite of the previous night, fire and passion replaced by a gentleness so tender and bone shatteringly intimate that it made Ari’s knees weak. He moaned softly and clung to Miles, who was leaning into him just as much. Ari’s hand clutched at the back of Miles’ head and he nearly shook when Miles’ mouth parted beneath his own. Mile’s hands clung to his back and Ari could feel how his hands shook in tiny tremors.

They parted, both gasping at the intensity. Ari wasn’t surprised to find himself still leaking stray tears- Miles was looking a bit shiny eyed himself.

“Christ, you need to feed me,” Ari said, completely unwilling to have to deal with feeling like an over emotional hormonal teenager for even a second longer. “I’m going crazy. Must be low blood sugar or something.”

Miles shot him a grateful look, probably just as done with feeling like a teenager, and turned towards the kitchen saying, “Good news, I have leftover pizza and beer. Take your pick.”

“I think ten AM is too early for beer, even for me,” Ari said, rooting around in Miles’ barren fridge.

They ate cold pizza, their feet intertwined under the table, playing footsie like teenagers. The whole thing was ridiculous and Ari couldn’t keep the enormous grin off his face even when Miles stole his third piece.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs used this chapter:  
> Light Behind Your Eyes- My Chemical Romance  
> Chew Me Up, Spit Me Out- Cobra Starship  
> Ocean Avenue- Yellowcard  
> The Anthem- Good Charlotte  
> Helena- My Chemical Romance  
> Some nights- fun.  
> Check Yes, Juliet- We the Kings  
> Teenagers- My Chemical Romance  
> Teenage Dirtbag- Wheatus  
> Anklebiters- Paramore  
> Dear Maria, count me in- All Time Low  
> Millennia (acoustic)- Crown the Empire
> 
> I also have an [8tracks](https://8tracks.com/ladyfnick/young-love-is-just-a-dream) playlist for this fic, which will have songs added with each chapter


	3. I'm right here, so don't get blue. It's not just you, I need this too

Ari really, truly, and sincerely should have been working on his next song. The next challenge was only a day away and, while he’d nailed down what song he was going to use, he still needed to polish it up a bit.

The thing was, he was _tired_. Not physically. He was tired of competing. He was tired of practicing. Mostly he was just tired of being stuck in the constant focus of being on _The Star Project_.

“Really like what you’re working on. It’s very subtle,” Felix said from behind him, startling Ari so badly he nearly toppled out of his chair.

“Jesus _Christ_!” Ari yelped, unable to keep from glowering when Felix only snickered at his reaction. “What are you doing in here?” he asked suspiciously. He was in one of the shared rooms used for preparing for the challenges, and there were at least five other contestants wandering around in there. Felix couldn’t possibly be there to give him vague warnings about Miles without someone overhearing.

Felix shrugged. “Producers suggested that now that there’s only seven of you, the band start swinging by to see how you guys are doing, when we have time.”

“Huh. Well I’m busy procrastinating over here, maybe you should go help someone actually being productive,” Ari said, wrinkling his nose as he set his guitar aside. Forcing himself to practice when he was in this sort of mood was usually a terrible idea- he’d sound crappy and only stress himself out and then sound even worse as a result. But it wasn’t like he had much choice with the deadline looming.

“You’ve got a song picked out, right?” Felix asked, looking a bit concerned.

Ari rolled his eyes. “No, Felix, I’m going to wander on stage tomorrow and just try and bang out _What I Like About You_ without practicing and forget how the chords go part way through the song. Because that’s a good idea.”

“In my defense,” Felix said haughtily, “I remembered how to do the chorus, which was all that mattered.”

“If you’d forgotten how to sing _that’s what I like about you_ four times in a row, I’d have been really concerned,” Ari said and dodged the lazy swipe leveled at him.

“The girl I was trying to impress thought it was kind of cute,” Felix said with an easy grin.

“She probably though it was cute in a sort of adorable, pathetic way. How else are you supposed to respond to someone switching the chords for _What I Like About You_ with a completely different song thirty seconds in,” Ari said, grinning at the memory.

“Speaking of- what song are you doing?” Felix asked and sat down next to him, curling his legs up under himself.

“ _Stupid For You_ ,” Ari said and sighed deeply. “At the time, I thought it was a good pick, and I can perform it okay, it just doesn’t sound quite right when I sing it. I think I’m screwing up the tempo, but I can’t tell if I’m going too slow or too fast or _what_ and it’s driving me a little crazy.”

Felix hummed in acknowledgement and said, “Okay, let’s hear it then. Maybe I’ll be able to hear what’s happening.”

Playing _Stupid For You_ again was probably the absolute last thing he wanted to do, but Ari sighed and dutifully started to play. “ _Hey, tell me what you want me to say, you know I’m stupid for you,_ ” he sang, trying not to make a face- he didn’t know _what_ was wrong, but the song just felt clumsy and off even as he got into the chorus.

“Good choice,” Felix said with an appreciative grin when Ari ground to a faltering halt. Felix looked around for something, then got to his feet and said over his shoulder, “Be right back!”

Felix returned a few minutes later, a guitar of his own in his hands. He sat back down again and beamed at Ari. “I think I can hear what’s off, but I’m not sure if I can really put it into words” he explained, settling the guitar in his lap. “So, I’ll just play it, you join in when you think you see where I’m going.”

Ari nodded and felt a smile tug on his lips as Felix started to sing under his breath, “ _You're a symphony, I'm just a sour note. I'll take what I can get_.”

It was a little nostalgic. Felix didn’t have much of a singing voice, and preferred playing bass over guitar, which had been handy as teenagers with Ari and Miles both already playing guitar in high school. But he also had a very good ear for music and Ari knew he’d been trained as a classical pianist as a kid. Felix had ditched the lessons once he’d started high school, but he still had the training behind him. It meant that he was far better than Ari at finding the rough edges in songs and figuring out how to fix them.

Ari and Miles had both been mostly self-taught, but Felix joining their sort-of-band in high school had really upped their game. It had been with the addition of Felix when Ari had, very hesitantly and only late at night by himself, thought that Miles’ ambitions for stardom weren’t entirely wishful thinking.

“ _Hey, can you come-a, come out and play? You know I'm stupid for you_ ,” Ari sang along, a little louder. His eyes went wide when he could feel the difference. He had no clear idea what Felix was doing differently, but it made everything work.

They played through the rest of the song, the rough edges Ari’d been fighting with smoothing out without problem.

“That fix things?” Felix asked, carefully setting aside the guitar he’d brought over.

Ari nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah. Hopefully I can replicate it on my own later, because I have no idea what you changed, just that it worked.”

“You were always a quick study, I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Felix said.

From the corner of Ari’s eye, he could see Grayson shooting him a quick, intense glower before going back to his own work. Ari sighed and said, “You should probably go help someone else before you get accused of favoritism.” He tipped his head towards Grayson demonstratively.

Felix turned to look, not even attempting at subtlety. Ari gave in to the urge to slap a hand across his face.

“He kind of reminds me of you as a teenager,” Felix said, tapping a finger to his lips thoughtfully.

Ari stared at him, mouth open with shock. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so insulted in my life, you take that back right now.”

Felix rolled his eyes and flung a companionable arm across Ari’s shoulders. “No seriously, think about it.”

“I am, that’s why I’m so offended. I was never that obsessively competitive or so much of a jackass, I hope. Literally the first thing he said to me when I met him was _did they run out of actually talented musicians?_ It was like being insulted by an aggrieved Yorkshire terrier. Or a toddler.”

“That wasn’t what I was getting at,” Felix protested, even as he snickered quietly. “I meant more of the intensely focused on music and socially awkward part,” he said, casting a lazy eye towards Grayson on the other side of the room. He was bent over a notepad and scribbling furiously, a fierce glower on his face.

“Socially awkward?” Ari asked skeptically. Grayson really didn’t strike him as shy in the slightest- the kid had no hesitation when it came to giving people a piece of his mind, and loudly at that.

“Comes in all shapes and sizes,” Felix said shrugging languidly. “You just didn’t talk much unless Miles was with you. I figure that with Grayson, he doesn’t know how to interact with people and just settled on ‘perpetually angry’ as a default since he didn’t know what else to do.”

“Huh,” Ari said, mentally going over every interaction he’d ever had with Grayson. There was no real way to know if Felix was right or not, but Ari was inclined to believe him. For all that he acted like an air-headed flirt most of the time, he was unusually perceptive. “I’ll have to keep that in mind,” he said, for lack of something better to say.

“Doesn’t excuse him from acting like an asshole,” Felix said easily. “But it does make a sort of sense.”

Ari shot Grayson one last considering look, and then got back to work.

~

“Okay, fuck, marry or kill- Jamie, Kat and Felix,” Alice said with a devilish grin.

“What?” Ari asked with a startled laugh. The remaining six contestants were hanging out in the kitchen, mostly killing time until they needed to go to bed for their early morning in the studio.

“Profanity,” the cameraman reminded them, sounding amused.

“Yeah, Alice, geeze, you can’t say ‘fuck’ on TV. Are you nuts?” Robin teased, making everyone laugh, since he was the one who had to be reminded the most often to watch his language.

“What? You can’t say FUCK on TV?” Alice asked loudly, causing Ari to nearly slide out of his chair from silent laughter. “Why the fuck not? That’s fucking crazy.”

“Come on, guys,” the cameraman said, starting to laugh himself.

“Alright, alright- bed, wed or behead- Jamie, Kat and Felix,” Alice amended, rolling her eyes dramatically.

“Bed all of them,” Robin said with a wink at Alice.

“That’s not how the game works,” Alice complained and smacked him lightly on the arm.

“They’re all so attractive, I can’t choose!” Robin complained and then said, “Okay, you go first then.”

Alice tapped her chin, her face screwed up in a look of exaggerated concentration. “Bed Felix, he’s probably really good in bed,” she said, grinning at Grayson’s scandalized expression. “And wed Kat because she’d probably kill anyone before they could kill her, and I always thought she’d be a supportive spouse. Which means I’m beheading Jamie, I guess.”

Reflexively, Ari made a face. “That’s like killing a baby hobbit or something,” he said when Alice made a questioning noise. “He’s like four feet tall, it would be cruel.”

“What about you then?” Alice asked, looking intrigued.

Ari pursed his lips, thinking. “I’d marry Kat- I could be her trophy husband,” he joked when Robin raised his eyebrows at him, and then paused. “Bed Jamie, I suppose. Kill Felix.”

“Blasphemy!” Robin cried and then started to laugh.

Snickering, Alice asked, “You know Felix from before the show, right?”

Ari eyed the nearby cameraman and Grayson, who’d initially looked disgusted with the conversation but now was sporting a look of intense focus, and said carefully, “Sort of. We grew up in the same town, anyways. I haven’t been in contact with him since high school.”

“Huh,” Alice said and then turned to Grayson. “Well, what about you, young one? Not too sure if you’re old enough for the marry or bedding part, though.”

“I’m _eighteen_ , not six,” Grayson snapped irritably. “And I’d kill _all_ of you.”

~

Somehow, Ari was in the final four. He honestly had no idea what was happening. After this challenge was over, all the competitors would be allowed to go home and rest for a few months while the episodes aired, and then everyone would be brought back together for the finals performed live on TV over the course of three weeks. Even if he lost, he would still get to see Miles again, since all of the contestants were going to be part of the live shows.

But he didn’t just want to be around Miles, he wanted to win.

With fewer competitors around, the band had started showing up during practice to offer advice. Ari had remembered why he’d liked hanging around Felix as kids, and Jamie and Kat were nice enough once he’d gotten to know them outside of being judged on stage. He wanted to make music with them.

He bit his lip trying to stifle the nerves that threatened to overtake him. He was waiting outside the stage door alone, the final taped competition taking place in the same way the first one had, with each competitor entering the stage one at a time. Somewhere, Alice and Grayson were waiting to hear the results and Robin was in another room waiting for his turn, probably just as nervous as Ari felt.

One more song. Then he’d be in the top three. Then just a few live shows and he’d be in Miles’ band. Easy peasy.

Ari snorted, unable to sound convincing even in his own head.

He wasn’t going to make it. How could he? He hadn’t made it that far on his own merits.

His hands started to shake and he clenched them, trying to steady them. He had seconds before he’d be on stage, he had to calm down. It wasn’t like this was the end of the world. Except for the part where it kind of was.

He couldn’t do this, march out, sing a shitty song and then be politely told to go back to what he was good at, out of sight, to be heard, not seen. Before the show, he’d liked being a faceless studio musician, what had happened to him?

Ahead of him the stage door rattled and then opened. Ari stepped forward to go on stage, stomach tied in knots, but jumped back when he heard a familiar voice yelled, “Don’t worry, I’ll find it myself. I’ll be right back.”

Miles appeared through the door and slammed it shut behind him.

“I am having such a problem with these batteries,” he said, tossing what had to be a perfectly functional battery aside. “And I might have been going a little stir-crazy in there.”

“Miles!” Ari said and pretty much flung himself at him for a hug. Miles’ arms wrapped around him automatically, rocking back with the impact.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, sounding concerned. One of his hands smoothed over Ari’s back soothingly. “You sounded great in rehearsal, you’ll be fine.”

“It’s just- I don’t want to lose,” Ari said, shaking a little. He needed to get it together. They had seconds before someone came to get Ari or an assistant got Miles another battery. He was being stupid. Of course he didn’t want to lose- this was hardly news to either of them. He needed to get his shit together.

“Hey,” Miles said. He gently pushed Ari back, hands firm on his shoulders. “You’re going to be great. You made it this far”

Ari made a face, and voice growing more bitter with each word, “Right, I was picked for this show because of my talent- oh wait, it was because I knew you. I won the second challenge- no that was because the producers thought it would be dramatic. I beat Casey in the mini-challenge because I’m so awesome, and also because he lost on purpose. And I won the fourth challenge with Grayson and Alice because _I’m_ so talented out of the three of us.” He stepped back, Mile’s hands falling from his shoulder. Ari snorted sarcastically. “Right. I’ve made it this far, what do I have to worry about?”

Miles was frowning at him, but his voice was soft. “Ari. Do you think you’re only here because of other people?” Before Ari could reply, Miles shook his head and said, “Never mind, I know the answer to that. You’re wrong. You would have been cut if you were terrible, no matter what the producers wanted. You couldn’t make it to the _top four_ competitors on their will alone, okay? If you hadn’t been so shaky on the first half, you would have won with _The Light Behind Your Eyes_. You made Jamie cry. _Jamie_. He’s like a Spartan warrior in the form of a four-foot-tall Korean man. He didn’t even tear up when Felix made him watch Titanic and The Notebook back to back.”

Unwilling, Ari snickered. Warmth bloomed in him when he saw the way it made Miles smile- crooked and dopey and unphotogenic and so _warm_. It made something in Ari’s chest unclench, some of the panic subsiding a little.

“You might not be a born genius like some of these people, but you have outstanding dedication. Every song you’ve performed has shown incredible emotion, which isn’t something a lot of pop music is known for. You’re amazing and you don’t give yourself enough credit. Now quit with the self-deprecation, you aren’t _actually_ seventeen anymore,” Miles said and then pressed a soft kiss on Ari’s mouth. Ari had only a heartbeat to lean into it, a soft feeling washing through him, before Miles pulled away, looking towards the door with a grimace.

“You should go before someone hunts you down,” Ari said with a smile he only half felt.

Miles nodded and punched him lightly on the shoulder. “You’re going to rock it,” he said over his shoulder as he re-entered the stage.

Alone, Ari could feel the same feeling of hopelessness threatening to overtake him. He closed his eyes and focused on what Miles had told him.

He could do it. Or at least give the best damn try he had in him. He wasn’t going to give up that close to the end.

Minutes later, the stage door opened and he was ushered on stage.

He exhaled as the music began and he let the lyrics pour out of him, “ _Well now I look at you and you're still more than I can take. You're like a slow song starting to accelerate. All my life I looked for you, for arms that I could fall into._ ”

He’d heard the song months before, probably Baby Simon’s doing, since Ari wasn’t Yellowcard’s biggest fan. At the time, he’d liked the song well enough, but in that moment, singing in front of two of his oldest friends, at a crossroads in his life, the song took on an entirely different meaning.

“ _We were singing 'til our voices were gone, and I was falling hard. You were barely hanging on, and now I wanna chase forever down, with you around_.”

When the song was over, everyone at the table was smiling. Even Ari was smiling: he’d done the best he could. Even if he lost, there was nothing he’d change about his performance. He had no regrets. That was all that mattered, in the end.

“Thank you, Arial,” Kat said and Ari left the stage to wait with Grayson and Alice. Alice jumped up and gave him a bone cracking hug.

“I’m so nervous! And exhausted!” She said and then sat back down heavily, like a marionette whose strings had been cut.

Ari nodded in agreement; it had been a _very_ long few weeks. He was looking forward to not getting up at six every morning, and to be able to give his throat a rest.

“Aw, shit,” the cameraman muttered. When the three of them looked at him questioningly he said, “Something’s wrong with the audio recorder, everything’s all garbled. I have to go see if it can be fixed before you guys are sent back on stage.”

With the cameraman gone, the three of them all sighed in relief. Fewer competitors meant more time being filmed, which was unilaterally exhausting. Especially when one was sneaking around with the front man for the band. He and Miles hadn’t risked getting caught leaving the premises again, so they’d been limited to a few moments off camera, usually when Ari was on his way to post-challenge interviews.

“Can I tell you guys a secret?” Alice asked, her voice uncharacteristically soft. Ari immediately sat up and paid attention. Alice was a force of nature, sweet, but not a pushover, necessary when the top five competitors had all been male apart from her. She was biting her lip, body curled into itself, every inch of her screaming discomfort.

“Of course,” Ari said when Grayson just stared at her in confusion.

“I don’t actually want to win,” she confessed, eyes nervously darting to the open lounge door and back again.

“What.” Grayson’s voice was flat and disbelieving. Ari felt much the same, especially since Alice had been so passionate about winning the whole time, though less obnoxious about it than Grayson.

“I love Stress In Idleness, but their music isn’t the sort of thing I like to perform. I’m more of a soul, jazz-y kind of girl. I mean I’m good at it, I can do it, and I like listening to it. It’s just not what I want to spend my career doing,” Alice admitted, her pose relaxed slightly, though her expression said she was still on edge. “I signed up hoping to make some better contacts, maybe producers looking for new talent. I figured I would just worry about what I’d do if I made it to the top three if it happened, cross that bridge when I got there sort of thing. I never expected for it to _actually_ be a thing I’d have to deal with.” She sighed and smiled weakly. “So, _of course_ I made it this far, just so I could eat those words.”

Grayson looked completely outraged and almost lost for words, but Alice’s anxious expression compelled Ari to say, “I’ll tell you a secret- I joined assuming I wouldn’t make it through the first challenge.” He was tempted to mention that he hadn’t been originally intended to be on the show, but he knew that could come back to bite him in the ass if anyone important found out he violated that part of his contract.

“Are the two of you _high_?” Grayson demanded. His face was flushed and he looked seriously pissed off, which was the only reason Ari didn’t laugh at how he sounded almost comically offended. “I gave up _everything_ just for a chance at winning, and you guys are here just on a whim? You’re just wasting everyone’s time bothering to compete when you don’t want to win. You both disgust me!”

His young face was marked with fatigue, but there was Grayson’s usual fire behind his eyes, and he looked like he was seconds from leaping to his feet in outrage. Ari was torn between concern and amusement- it was just like Grayson to get this worked up, but at the same time… The desperate anger in his expression worried Ari.

“Gave up everything?” Alice asked, looking skeptical.

Grayson bit his lip, almost looking his age for once, before he sighed, the fight going out of him. “I had to leave my band to join the show,” he admitted, eyes flicking to the door worriedly. “The other guys were pissed, since we were starting to get noticed on YouTube. So, if I lose I won’t even have that to fall back on. We’ve been friends since middle school, but this was more important.” As he said the last part his eyes flicked downward, like he wasn’t quite sure he believed his own words.

Ari would have replied, something in his chest aching in sympathy, but Robin appeared in the doorway and Grayson’s expression shuttered immediately upon spotting him.

“Well that was fun,” Robin said, apparently not sensing the strange atmosphere between them all, and threw himself onto a couch with a groan. “I never want to see a camera ever again. Or be on a stage. Except not really.”

“Honestly, even if I lose, I’ll be excited just to be able to go home and see my cat,” Alice said, shooting a discreet worried look at Grayson. Grayson was glowering at nothing in particular, a common expression for him, but Ari swore he could see a hint of a fading embarrassed blush on the tips of his ears.

“I am so excited to see my bed, I might cry,” Robin said, stretching and sighing deeply when his back popped. “Not that living in a dorm isn’t _so_ much fun, but I miss sleeping in a queen-sized bed.”

“It has been a bit like being in college again,” Ari admitted, not fully paying attention to the conversation. The fact that Grayson had opened up to them at all was shocking, though his explanation certainly explained his nearly desperate desire to win. And to think, Ari had thought he was just obnoxiously competitive and wanted to prove himself, even if it took badmouthing everyone left right and center to do it.

 “No offence, but I’ll be happy to not see all your faces for a few solid weeks,” Alice said with a wink.

Grayson didn’t say anything as Alice and Robin bantered for a few more minutes longer with minimal input from Ari. It wasn’t uncharacteristic of Grayson, but eventually Robin seemed to notice that something wasn’t quite right and asked, “Hey, are you okay?”

Grayson visibly hesitated, opened his mouth and- the cameraman reentered the room. Grayson snapped his mouth shut.

Robin looked from Grayson to Ari and Alice and then finally to the oblivious cameraman, eyes narrowing almost imperceptibly.

“So, Arial, you lived in a dorm before?” He asked, much to everyone’s obvious relief.

The three of them made bland small talk while Grayson dispassionately stared off into space for a little while longer before they were taken back to just outside the stage doors, where the cameraman left them behind while another issue was fixed with the sound system.

Ahead of him, Grayson was practically vibrating with nerves, belaying the carefully bored look he had on his face.

Ari hesitated for a heartbeat and then grabbed Grayson’s arm and said quietly, “Hey, about your band.” Grayson turned to face him, scowling. He looked like he was about to tell Ari it wasn’t any of his fucking business, so Ari got to the point without hesitating and said, “No matter what happens, you should try and patch things up with them. Win or lose, okay?”

This caught Grayson off guard, the scowl starting to slip from his face before he quickly slapped it back on. “Why do you care?” He asked sharply.

Ari shrugged, letting the hand fall off Grayson’s arm and stepping back out of his space. “Just take it as advice from someone who’s gone down that road- if you don’t talk to them, you’ll regret not trying. Trust me.”

Grayson continued to scowl at him, but Ari thought he saw a sliver of thoughtfulness behind his expression.

The air felt different on stage. It had always been tense whenever waiting to hear who hadn’t made the cut each week, but this time there was a sense of finality. There would be the final challenge, but that was a series of live shows, and wouldn’t take place on the familiar stage used for filming. Win or lose, none of them would be on this stage ever again.

“Your performances were all exemplary,” Kat said. “It made for a very tough decision. But only three of you can enter the finals.”

There was a tense pause, and then Miles said, eyes flicking over to Ari briefly, “I’m sorry Robin, you scored the lowest. You may leave the stage.”

Next to Ari, Robin let out a sigh- half relief, half despair, and silently left the stage. Ari would have felt sorry for the guy, but he was too busy being amazed- had he seriously made it to the top three? Was that something that had just happened?

Miles smiled at him- at all of the contestants, but Ari swore it softened a little when it landed on him. Ari’s heart swelled. He’d done it- he was still in the game. He had a chance.

“Congratulations on making it to the top three,” Felix said with an exuberant grin. Ari could tell how hard it was for him to stay seated and not bounce over to clap them on the back or something. He was not a person meant to stay still for so long. “As you know, the final competition will be divided into three live shows. Each of you will compose an original song with Miles and you will perform it at one of the shows, the order of which will be chosen at random.”

That said, Miles came around the table and offered a bag to each of them. They each drew a small envelope from the bag, and carefully removed a card from them. Ari’s had the number three written on it.

“Looks like you’ll be going last,” Alice said, eyeing his card over his shoulder. She was holding a card with a number one on it. Leaving Grayson to go second. Grayson’s face looked impassive about his placement, but for his part, Ari was relieved to not be going first.

Ari wanted to say something to Miles or even just get to catch his gaze, but he and Alice and Grayson were immediately hustled off of the stage, the band taken through the exit at the other side. As they left, Ari twisted around, trying to casually catch sight of Miles over his shoulder, but only saw his back before he left the stage.

The three of them were escorted to a conference room where an executive was waiting to provide more information on how the live shows would work. It was all stuff that they had been told before joining the show, but Ari had been operating under the assumption that he’d lose, so he hadn’t paid much attention at the time.

Basically, there would be three live shows three weeks in a row, performed by all of the contestants singing the best of the songs they’d performed on the show, with the one of final songs of the night being performed by one of the top three, written by them and Miles. At the end of the third show, the winner would be announced live on television. In the meantime, all the contestants had two weeks off before practice for the live shows started.

Ari, Grayson and Alice would have staggered rehearsals with Miles, so that they would each have an equal amount of time working on a song for the final. But they could start working on a song on their own whenever, giving Ari a bit of an advantage, something that didn’t seem to faze Alice, but Ari knew had to irritate Grayson.

 “If there is any evidence of any of you three attempting to contact any of the band members outside your designated rehearsals, or in any way seek an advantage, you will be disqualified,” the executive said very sternly, her eyes sharply focused. “Last season one of the top three competitors was found to be emailing the band and we were forced to remove her from the competition. We are not joking about this.”

At this, her eyes seemed to linger on Ari. He was sure it was just his imagination, but the words shot through him, making his heart race. He couldn’t see Miles for an entire _month_ if he didn’t want to risk being disqualified.

He had no idea why this startled him- of course he couldn’t go on seeing Miles before the finals. It still came as a total shock. He’d just assumed he’d have the entire break to reconnect with Miles without having to worry about being caught on camera.

He couldn’t even text or call or email. No contact.

He shivered, the time seeming insurmountably long. A month was nothing after seven years of radio silence.

It seemed impossibly long.

“You’ll be escorted back to the dorms to get your belongings, after which you’re free to go home. You’ll be contacted with information on the rehearsal schedule within the next few days,” the executive said and stood, smiling pleasantly, a complete reversal of her previously stern look. “Excellent work, all of you. Enjoy your time off, you’ve all earned it.”

Ari followed Alice and Grayson from the room, heart racing. He should have been overjoyed to finally have some free time and his own space, but he just couldn’t shake the feeling that if he didn’t say something to Miles in that moment he’d regret it, like everything would fall apart.

Grayson and Alice were all relieved smiles as they left the conference room, chattering about what they were doing first when they got home.

“I mean I’m happy and all to have been on the show and to have made it to the top three, but I am _so_ stoked to go home. I’m going to take a two-hour bath and pet my cat,” Alice joked, sighing deeply. “Or maybe a nap first. Or get take out.”

“I have to call my mom,” Grayson said, looking a bit concerned. “She was kind of pissed when I told her I’d be out of contact for a solid month. If I don’t show up for finals, it’ll because she murdered me.”

“What about you, Arial?” Alice asked, turning to face him in her seat. “Got any plans?”

“N-not really,” Ari said, mind racing. He had no way of contacting Miles, and the second he left for the dorm he’d have no chance of catching Miles. He couldn’t text or call- even if he had Miles’ cell number. He could probably find Miles’ rental apartment again, maybe. He didn’t have the address but he knew its general location- but what would he do when he got there? Politely ask the doorman to let him in, say he totally was friends with the famous guy that lived there? Right, that would be sure to work. Not to mention the consequences of getting caught there, it was a miracle no one had seen him the one time he’d spent the night.

He had to see Miles, at least once before radio silence for a month.

They all headed to the rehearsal rooms to pick up the belongings they’d been leaving there during the competition- mostly instruments, but also a few other odds and ends that came with spending the better part of a month all but living in the space.

Ari carefully packed up both of his guitars, a bit slower than necessary. His mind was racing and coming up blank. He was just going to have to deal with not getting to say goodbye.

Grayson and Alice were waiting for him with varying degrees of impatience at the door, so he gave up and followed them out, guitar case in each hand and a messenger bag slung across his back. Alice shot him a concerned look, probably because he was looking a lot less happy than he ought to have been about winning and finally getting to go home, but thankfully she didn’t say anything.

They were nearly out of the building in the main reception area when he spotted Miles getting into an elevator.

“I forgot something upstairs, can you take my stuff outside for me? I’ll be right behind you,” Ari said and carefully dropped both guitar cases on the floor and doubled back before Alice or Grayson could reply.

The building only had three floors, so there were only so many places Miles could be going. Once out of sight, Ari started running down the hall and raced up the stairs. He burst out of the landing and circled back to where the elevators were. The doors were closing on one of them, but he could hear someone walking down the hallway out of sight. He dashed after the sound, half expecting to just end up startling some stranger.

Two more corners and he spotted a familiar head of dark curls, no one else in sight.

“Miles!” Ari called, wheezing for breath. He was seriously out of shape. He stumbled forward and grinned when Miles turned, looking startled.

“Ari,” he said, sounding relieved and came back towards him down the hallway. The second he was in reach, he pulled Ari into a tight hug, tension rolling off his shoulders. “Congratulations! I told you that you could do it, you pessimistic little rain cloud! I can’t believe I didn’t realize I wouldn’t get to see you after today.”

“Me too,” Ari said into his shoulder, the t-shirt comfortingly soft under his cheek. Miles still wore the same aftershave he’d used in high school. The smell was nostalgic and made him relax, that little knot of worry in his gut unravelling. “Seems like we’re both still a little stupid.”

“The rules are stupid,” Miles said, sounding annoyed and like a little kid. He laughed and then let go of Ari, but not stepping back. “But I also don’t want to get you disqualified.”

“That would suck,” Ari agreed with a sigh. “It is only a month.”

“A month is nothing compared to eight years,” Miles agreed, though his tone said he wasn’t so sure about that.

Without hesitating, they both leaned in for a kiss. Miles’ hand stroked across his cheek gently, and he pouted a little when they parted.

“Just wait for me a little longer, okay?” Ari said, stepping back. He really needed to get back to Grayson and Alice, the van to take them to the dorm was waiting for them.

“See you soon,” Miles said, eyes a little sad.

They looked at each other silently for a long moment and then headed in opposite directions down the hall.

Ari was lost in thought, and maybe sulking a little, as he turned the first corner and all but jumped out of his skin when he nearly collided with a person.

Not just any person. Grayson.

He was without his trademark scowl. He didn’t look even a little angry. His face was frighteningly blank. He said nothing as he stared up at Ari and slowly raised one eyebrow.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Ari said quickly and then wanted to smack himself. “I mean, I’m not cheating or anything, okay? I swear. Please don’t tell anyone.”

Grayson stared at him for a long moment and then turned on his heel and started down the hallway.

“Carry your own damn guitars,” he said over his shoulder, voice devoid of any emotion.

Shit.

Ari scrubbed a hand through his hair roughly. That could have gone better.

Maybe hunting Miles down in front of a suspicious teenager wasn’t his best idea.

Ari was seriously an idiot.

~

They were taken back to the dorm and packed up their belongings and then that was it, they were free to go home.

Ari had stood outside the building with his two guitar cases and duffle bag, feeling lost and a little bit of an idiot until he pulled out his recently returned cell phone and called Baby Simon.

That was a mistake. He seriously should have just called a cab. Even if being alone had seemed uncomfortably strange after being crammed in a dorm with a dozen people for nearly a month and going back to his probably dusty apartment had seemed like a terrible idea. Calling Baby Simon was an even more terrible idea. Involving Baby Simon in anything in general was a terrible idea.

Twenty minutes later, Baby Simon’s shitty Honda Civic rounded the corner and his friend and coworker stuck his head of out of the driver’s window.

“Hey, did a ghost call a cab?” He shouted, grinning widely.

“Screw you,” Ari said and shoved all his belongings into the backseat and flung himself into the passenger seat.

“So,” Baby Simon said about thirty seconds into the drive, which Ari supposed was the longest he could stay silent. “Are you going to tell me what this whole disappearing act was about? TJ wouldn’t tell us anything, even when Vince and I hid the good coffee in the break room.”

“I can’t, I signed a contract,” Ari said, and then regretted it. Saying no to Baby Simon was only ever seen as a challenge.

Baby Simon started out easy- just asking the same question every five seconds. Then he moved on to finding the most obnoxious songs on the radio and singing along loudly and out of key. When that didn’t work, he rolled the windows down and started loudly wondering what Ari had been doing, coming up with progressively more terrible and illegal things.

Ari snapped around the time he suggested something positively _horrific_ involving farm animals. “Fine! I’ll tell you!” He shouted and then was immediately drowned out by Baby Simon’s triumphant cry. Baby Simon was technically three years older than Ari, and had gotten his name as the youngest of four people named Simon at the office. But even if he’d been the oldest Simon, he’d deserve the name, Ari reflected irritably as Baby Simon continued to cackle.

“You can’t tell anyone about this, okay? I’m not joking, I’ll get the pants sued off of me if you do,” Ari said and Baby Simon nodded enthusiastically. Ari explained how and why he’d been chosen for _The Star Project_ , and his past with Miles in much less detail.

“Wait, so you’re telling me that you’ve known Felix Fitzroy the entire time you’ve known me and you’ve _never told me_?” Baby Simon demanded once Ari was finished.

“ _That_ was what you got out of that?” Ari demanded and then couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

“That’s the only part that matters, he’s like a god among bass players,” Baby Simon said earnestly. Ari could almost see the hearts in his eyes.

“He’s supposedly about to become engaged,” Ari said dryly. “So even if I’d been speaking to him before all this and introduced you, you wouldn’t have had a chance.”

Baby Simon rolled his eyes. “Pft. Like that matters, I don’t want him for his body, I only want to marry his brain. Or just his right hand.”

“Gross,” Ari said, wrinkling his nose and then dodged the hand that Baby Simon flailed at him blindly, eyes still on the road.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Baby Simon complained and then pulled the car to stop in front of Ari’s apartment building. “You need help carrying your stuff upstairs?”

“No, I’ll be fine,” Ari said and then paused. “But there is something you could help me with, if you aren’t busy.”

The notes were where he’d left them, tucked away in a binder, virtually untouched since junior year. He hadn’t been able to throw the binder away when he’d moved out of his parent’s place, so he’d shoved it into the back of a cupboard and hadn’t touched it since then.

He flipped the binder open, months of work spilling out. The lined pages were perfectly crisp, though the notes written in ball point pen were a bit faded with age. It was all of the music he and Miles had been working on together in middle and high school, bits and pieces of unfinished songs they’d never completed.

He wanted to have something to show Miles when they met up in a month, but a lot of it was… well not very good. He’d been sixteen and it showed. But there were a few chords here, a line in a chorus there that would be usable. Which was what he needed Baby Simon for. He might have been an obnoxious, pushy jerk, but he was a genius with filling in the gaps on songs.

This was going to work.

~

“So, I had an interesting phone call from Samantha,” his mom said over the phone.

Ari hummed distractedly, busy trying to keep his spaghetti sauce from burning. He’d been on the phone with his mom for the better part of an hour, and was mostly zoned out at that point. There was only so much maternal guilt that he could pay attention to.

“She said you were dating her son? Again?” his mom said archly. Ari jumped, bumping his hand on the hot side of the pan and yelped. “Really, Arial, is that a good idea?”

“Who’s Samantha?” He asked and stuck his hand under the sink. He could already see a pink mark forming on his hand where he’d burnt it.

“Miles’ mother,” his mom said, like she’d told him a dozen times.

“You still talk to her?” Ari asked, startled. “Wait, his mom called you to… gossip about us?”

“She doesn’t call very often,” his mom said. “But we do live in the same town, we’ve bumped into each other a few times. More importantly, is it true?”

Ari bit his lip. “Sort of?” he said, accidentally making it sound more like a question. Dating was a strong word. And not anything they’d really talked about. Or something Ari was really prepared to talk about yet.

“ _Arial_ ,” his mom said sternly, making him feel about twelve again.

“It just kind of happened?” Ari squeaked, feeling his face go red and fumbled to grab an ice pack from the freezer without taking his hand out from the cold water.

“Is it just a sex thing, then?” his mom asked, _like that was a totally normal thing to ask her adult son_.

“Oh my _god_ , mom,” Ari squawked and yelped when he smacked his burnt hand on the faucet and dropped a packet of frozen peas on the floor.

“That’s not a no,” his mom said, sounding disapproving. “I’m not certain this is a healthy relationship, Arial. You were so devastated in high school after that argument.”

“I’m not a child, mom,” Ari said, a little irritably and grabbed the peas off the floor. “And it isn’t a sex thing, oh my god, never say anything like that again.”

“Arial,” his mom said again. “Are you or are you not in a relationship with that boy?”

“It’s complicated. I need to talk to him about it, okay?” Ari snapped, rubbing his free hand over his face, knowing it was no good. His mother was like a dog with a bone about these things. She’d shake an answer out of him even if he didn’t think he had one to give.

“What’s there to talk about? Either you both want a relationship, or you don’t.”

“I mean… I do. I just- we haven’t had a chance to talk about it,” Ari said, biting his lip. He was seriously starting to be annoyed at this whole ‘not getting disqualified’ thing.

“So, it is a sex thing,” his mom concluded. “Don’t forget to use protection, Arial,” she added over Ari’s squawk of rage.

“I’m never speaking to you again!” Ari shouted into the phone and hung up. This relationship, or whatever it was, was actually turning him into a teenager again.

He seriously needed to talk to Miles.

Wait, what had his mom meant by him dating Miles _again_?

~

The two week break crawled by and Ari was probably the only competitor who felt resentful of the respite.

He cleaned his apartment within an inch of its life, called his mom every other day and spent an inadvisable amount of time in Baby Simon’s presence. He dug through the binder from high school, toying with his old half-written songs, but ended up dismissing nearly all of it as useless. They weren’t very good and blatantly written by someone between the age of fourteen and seventeen.

Though, he did realize Miles was right about the song he’d been singing the morning after Ari had slept over- he found bits of it written down in the margins of what looked like English homework, the chords all but unfamiliar to him.

It was stupidly comforting to try and fumble his way through the song, like Miles was curled up next to him on the futon, coaching him through the long-forgotten verses.

He missed him.

It was stupid, he’d gone without seeing him for years, had thought of him less and less as time had gone on, but after a handful of conversations all Ari wanted to do was sing with him, make the old stupid jokes, stroke his fingers through his hair.

It was honestly a relief when rehearsals for the live shows started after the break, if only to give him something to keep his mind off Miles.

“Ari!” Alice called once she caught sight of him, beaming. Grayson was seated next to her, looking like he wasn’t quite sure why he’d sat there. “How was your break?” she asked, pushing out another chair for him.

As he sat, Grayson stared at him with a blank faced look, abruptly reminding Ari of what had happened in the hallway. He had no idea how he’d managed to forget that delightful scene.

Shaking himself, he said, “It was alright. I got kind of bored.”

“Me too,” Alice admitted, and then went silent when the guy organizing the live shows arrived and the rehearsal began in earnest.

The set list was a little different for each week, and composed of songs they’d performed on the show, mostly the ones that had won challenges. Ari thought it was pretty telling when it was mentioned in an overly casual afterthought that Grayson would sing _Death of a Bachelor_ , and that no one even brought up the idea of Ari singing _Thnks Fr Th Mmrs_. Subtle.

Rehearsals were long and dragged out affairs, and often involved a lot of standing on the spot while tech people figured out lighting and sound things. Starting the second week, Alice started her sessions with Miles for writing her final song, and was occasionally absent from the group rehearsals that ran from noon until nightfall six days a week.

Which left Grayson and Ari working on _Some Nights_ together without her. The first week had been awkward enough with Alice to fill in the gaps, but with her gone it was enough to make Ari want to pull his hair out.

“ _This is it boys, this is war, what are-_ okay, that’s it,” Ari snapped, slapping a hand down on the table, unable to take Grayson’s accusatory blank stares for a single second longer. “If you have something to say to me, just say it already or drop it, for god’s sake.”

“Are you a complete idiot?” Grayson asked, making it sound like an actual question while still sounding like he wanted to murder Ari. “Or does it take effort to think of stupid, reckless things to do?”

“Look,” Ari ground out, eyes flicking around the open room, making sure no one would overhear them, “You don’t know what you saw, okay?”

“You mean I imagined you sticking your tongue down Miles Eliot’s throat?” Grayson asked, not flinching when Ari hushed him violently.

“Are you _crazy_? Be quiet, I’m not getting my ass kicked off of this show because of a single kiss,” Ari hissed, looking around to see if anyone had overheard. Luckily rehearsals weren’t filmed and no one was within earshot, so no one noticed a thing.

“I don’t care if you aren’t taking this competition seriously,” Grayson said, crossing his arms and glowering at him darkly. “But I’m not screwing around, so I don’t care if you had to blow your way into third place or not- I’m going to win, whatever it takes. I didn’t come this far to leave with nothing to show for it.”

“Look, Miles and me, we have a history, okay?” Ari snapped, unable to keep from looking around the room again, probably only drawing more attention to himself than anything. “We’re working through it, but I’m not _cheating_ , so calm your ass down, okay?”

“And it couldn’t have waited until a time not directly after you were just told not to contact the band?” Grayson asked, voice bone dry, expression clearly stating that he wasn’t buying Ari’s bullshit.

“I never said I made sensible life choices,” Ari grumbled irritably under his breath.

Grayson’s expression didn’t change an inch, but they managed to get through the rest of the song without issue.

~

“So, what’s going on with you and Grayson?” Alice asked, swinging her feet casually. They were sitting on the edge of the stage that the live show would use in a few weeks, killing time until the lighting people needed them.

“What do you mean?” Ari asked, aiming for casual, but missing the mark and sounding just about as guilty as he felt.

Alice didn’t even say anything, just gave him a look.

Ari sighed and bit his lip, feeling chastened like a child. “You know that kid, he’s moody and weird about me,” he said, still not feeling like he wanted to regurgitate the entire debacle. He liked Alice, but revealing his ongoing _thing_ with Miles surrounded by people who worked for _The Star Project_ would be monumentally stupid.

“Obviously, but when we left after the last challenge he’d still talk to you, even when he was giving you the death glare. This Grayson feels like he was replaced with a singing-competition robot. He won’t even talk to _me_ about anything other than the competition,” she said, looking faintly worried. “I’m not going to lie, Grayson can be hard person to like sometimes, but that doesn’t mean I enjoy seeing him so wound up.”

Yikes, there was the guilt Ari had been trying to ignore. With that admission, Ari could hardly keep his silence.

“You know how Miles and I have a past, right?” he asked cautiously.

Alice nodded eagerly. “Yeah, you were always pretty closed mouthed about the whole thing, which I get.”

“Grayson is under the impression that I’m cheating since I used to know Miles- which isn’t the case. Until I sang _Gives You Hell_ , I hadn’t seen him in nearly a decade, and we had hardly left on good terms.”

Alice made an agreeing noise and swung her feet again, a contemplative look on her face.

“You know he considers you his biggest competition now, right?” she said eventually, a funny little smile on her face. It wasn’t what Ari would call a happy smile.

“What?” Ari asked, eyebrows shooting upwards. “But you’re so much better than I am!”

Alice giggled, her smile softening into something more relaxed. “Don’t knock your own talents- I might be better at song writing and have a bigger vocal range than you, but you are a very emotive singer, and starting to get more comfortable with putting on a performance rather than standing on the spot like a mannequin,” she teased.

“It’s pretty weird to not just be the guy in the sound booth still,” Ari admitted. “I mean, it’s what I’ve been doing for a solid five years now. Performing is not something that’s, like, ingrained in me, especially since I was pretty shy as a kid when _I did_ perform. But, really, why would Grayson think _I’m_ the one to beat when _you’re_ still in the competition?”

“I was the one who admitted out loud that I didn’t want the prize,” Alice said and sighed deeply. “That’s as good as admitting defeat to that kid. You might have said you hadn’t expected to get through the first challenge, but being unsure of yourself is pretty different than not _wanting_ to win.”

“What are you going to do if you _do_ win now?” Ari asked curiously. It wasn’t like Alice could win _The Star Project_ and then say thanks but no thanks. Not only was it part of the contracts they’d signed before joining the show, it would also look bad from a PR perspective. No one would want to touch an artist who’d turned down a spot with Stress In Idleness _._

“I don’t know,” Alice said with a laugh. There was a hint of hysteria in the edges of it, so Ari wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders, giving her a little comforting squeeze. “Part of me was still thinking I’d get eliminated before the finals, and I wasn’t about to _not try_ and then suddenly I’m in the top three. And now _I definitely_ don’t want to not do my best in front of a live audience.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll beat the pants off you so you don’t have to worry about that,” Ari joked, giving her a small squeeze.

Alice smiled, like she didn’t hear how Ari was joking. Or more like, she knew he was joking but thought he could actually do it. “So, you really want to win now, right?” she asked, nudging his knee with hers jokingly. “No more half-assing and going with the flow, right? You really stepped your game up after you sang _The Light Behind Your Eyes_.”

“Yeah. I forgot how much I actually like being the center of attention,” he joked. Alice rolled her eyes and elbowed him, so he said, more truthfully, “Giving up on being a performing artist was kind of a way to hide. Teenage Miles left a bit of a mark on me. I was so angry, I kind of forgot how fun singing and playing guitar in front of people can actually be. And it is way better without the acne and crippling self-consciousness that came with being a teenager.”

“You can say that again,” Alice said with a snicker. There was still a hint of something unhappy and apprehensive behind her expression, but before Ari could think of what to do to try and help, they were summoned back on stage to start rehearsal proper.

~

The week after that Grayson was gone to work with Miles, and the rehearsals started to take on a semi-hysterical edge. The shows were each going to be over two hours long, with Stress In Idleness playing a few songs throughout, and wrangling a dozen people and an entire band was proving to be even more challenging than Ari had anticipated.

It was a relief when it was finally his turn to meet with Miles, if only to escape the madness of the group rehearsals.

“Ari!” Miles greeted with a wide grin.

Ari desperately wanted to go in for a hug, but, while there were no cameras, there were still plenty of people around. He settled for a smile and a wave before sitting down across from Miles.

“So, did you have anything ready you wanted to start with, or are we starting from scratch?” Miles asked.

Ari bent down and pulled a file full of the bits of song he’d worked on with Baby Simon. “I have a few odd and ends,” he explained. “Which all started their life out when we were in high school. It’s all a little twee, but I figured with a bit of adjusting it could be kind of cute and authentic rather than annoying.”

Miles nodded a little absently as he flipped through the papers, a faint smile on his face. “You know,” he said once he’d gone through them all. “You could use _Millennia_.”

Ari bit his lip. As tempting as that was… “The challenge is to co-write a song with you, not just use one of your unproduced songs, so I wouldn’t want to have an unfair advantage,” he said hesitantly.

Miles shook his head. “The part you heard me singing was the only really finished part, I only remembered a little bit of the song when we split- you were almost always the one who made the notes. So we’d need to a second verse and we’d have to rework the chorus since it’s still a bit of a mess. And, you know, make music for all that that isn’t just a single acoustic guitar. That’s no small task.”

“Would that be fair to Alice and Grayson, though?” Ari asked, hesitating. He really liked the idea of using _Millennia,_ but he also didn’t want to cheat- Alice and Grayson hadn’t gone to high school with Miles, after all. And he was fairly certain that if Grayson found out he was using a song from his past with Miles, he’d flat out murder Ari.

“It’s fine, Grayson is basically just retooling a song he and his band wrote together earlier this year, and Alice brought one of her songs that was all but finished. Using _Millennia_ would be about the same. Technically, you’d be doing more work than them, to be honest,” Miles explained easily.

Ari bit his lip and thought about it carefully and then nodded. If Alice and Grayson were using old songs and not starting from scratch, then he wouldn’t feel bad about doing the same. Especially since what he was starting with had been written by a seventeen-year-old. It was going to require a great deal of polish to dodge the melodramatic teenage whine bullet.

“Let’s do it,” he said, and couldn’t help the ridiculous grin that was stretching across his face. He was so excited.

~

Rehearsals progressed, and eventually, the first live show was only a week away. Alice seemed cautiously optimistic about her progress, though in a quiet moment, she admitted to Ari that she still didn’t know what to do if she won with it, but that she was determined to do her best. Ari’s work with Miles was going well enough, though Miles proved to be just as obnoxious as he’d been as a teenager when it came to music.

“That’s completely off key.” Miles crossed his arms and frowned at Ari.

“Your _ears_ are off key,” Ari grumbled back. They’d been working together for a solid four hours. One more comment from Miles and he’d be tempted to smash his guitar over Miles’ big, dumb head.

“That doesn’t even make sense!”

Comparatively, Ari got the impression that Grayson’s song was not coming along as neatly. During group rehearsals, he was all but mute when his voice wasn’t needed, and, while his perpetual glower wasn’t anything new, the exhausted glaze to his eyes concerned both Ari and Alice. But whenever they tried to approach him, he responded in words that were even more barbed than usual. Eventually, they settled for leaving Grayson well enough alone, and made sure the others did as well.

“You know what’s going on with that kid?” Casey asked Ari during a break, one week away from the first live show. “I mean, he’s being more of a brat than usual. Something’s up with him.”

“I don’t know, he bites my head off whenever I tried to ask,” Ari said with a sigh. “I mean, he’s under a lot of stress right now. Hopefully, he calms down a little after the first show.”

“He’d better, Robin is about to murder him after what he said to him yesterday,” Casey pointed out wryly. “Either way, things are nearly over.”

~

For all that the break between filming the show and the live shows had seemed endless, the arrival of the first live show almost took Ari by surprise.

The backstage area was tiny and made all the more cramped by the sheer number of people crammed into it. Ari dutifully allowed someone to fuss with his hair and sigh over his somewhat worn sneakers, and then hid in a corner while the chaos continued to rage around him. Alice found him shortly after he found his corner, so nervous she was nearly chewing off the bright mauve lipstick she’d just applied.

“I’d say don’t be nervous, but I know that would be useless,” Ari said, directly in her ear since it was not only chaotic but also _loud_ back there. “But I know you’re going to do great tonight.”

She shot him a small, nervous smile. “Well, my song’s going to be surprising, at the very least.”

Before Ari could find out what she meant by that, the show began.

All of the contestants were brought out on stage, along with Stress In Idleness, and a host, who’s name Ari had already forgotten, but who he was pretty sure was famous simply for being famous.

The lights were blinding, leaving him blinking away spots, but he knew from rehearsal that the place was enormous, and he could tell from the cheering that nearly the stage under his feet apart that every single seat was filled. His stomach thrummed with equal parts dread and excitement.

“Welcome!” The host said, his voice booming through the enormous speakers that lined the front of the stage. “Welcome to the finale of the third season of The Star Project! We have a great show for you tonight. Are you all excited?!” The audience screamed back, an almost physical wave of noise. It tipped Ari’s scale away from dread towards excitement. There was a part of that audience, however small, who was excited to hear _him_ sing. If his ears hadn’t been ringing, Ari would have wondered if it all was an elaborate dream.

“Tonight, we will hear one of our top three contestants, Alice James, sing a song co-written with Miles Eliot, with the hopes of sweeping the competition. What do you think, guys?” The host turned to the band, even as someone in the audience shouted above all the cheering, “I love you, Alice!”

“I’ve heard Alice sing, so I think the other boys are going to have some tough competition to beat,” Miles said with a camera-perfect smile. He really was handsome, even if he’d been frowning he’d be handsome, but Ari preferred the goofy, unphotogenic smile he’d given Ari back at his apartment.

The host and the band delivered a bit more semi-scripted banter, and then the show began in earnest.

Later, Ari would only the show in snippets of clarity.

Stress In Idleness playing the first song of the night, the audience cheering so loud Ari could scarcely hear Miles’ voice over it.

Robin’s unplanned and _amazing_ falsetto during his first song on stage.

One of the techies in a TSP STAFF shirt silently mocking the drama queen antics of the host so accurately Ari laughed so hard he shot water out his nose.

Casey pulling Ari aside to show him a picture of his new niece the second Ari came off stage from singing _Some Nights_ with Alice and Grayson.

Grayson singing _Suicide_ Sunday, and the fact that there was nothing funnier and yet more unholily fitting than actual teenager Grayson Esposito singing the words _a new-millennial nightmare_.

Alice shooting Ari nervous smiles every time he caught his eye. Similarly, Miles shooting him knowing, excited looks in the same way.

Ari seriously wanted to ask the pair of them what that was about, but never got the chance, because all of the sudden Alice was striding on stage, holding an acoustic guitar. Followed by Miles, also carrying a guitar.

Ari’s eyebrows shot up. He hadn’t thought Miles would be allowed to perform with the top three for their final song- Ari wasn’t doing _Millennia_ with him, Miles hadn’t even suggested it.

“I struggled a lot with writing a song,” Alice admitted from the stage. “Not because Miles was hard to work with- he’s really great- but because I didn’t want to make something that sounded like I was just trying to write a Stress In Idleness song, I wanted this song to sound like _me_. I’m really proud of it, so I hope you guys like it!”

The audience cheered as Alice half-turned to give Miles, seated off to the side on a stool, a small nod.

The music started up, and Alice bent her head forward, taking a deep breath, before she looked up, an enormous smile on her face.

“ _I get tired and upset, and I'm trying to care a little less_ ,” Alice sang, her voice pure and sweet. “ _When I google I only get depressed, I was taught to dodge those issues. I was told don't worry, cause no doubt, there's always something to cry about_.”

The music was completely from left field, but the audience clapped along easy enough. Ari found himself smiling, because the song was perfect, it sounded just like a song Alice would make.

“ _Pack Up your troubles, get your old grin back. Don't worry ‘bout the cavalry. I don't care what the whisperers say, cause they whisper too loud for me_.”

When Alice came off stage, she was still grinning, her dark hair spilling wildly over her bare shoulders.

“That was amazing!” Ari said and hauled her in for a bone crushing hug, nearly picking her right off her feet.

“I’m so happy!” she said, clinging to his shoulders. “I just sang the best song I’ve ever written in front of a million people and probably just ruined any chance of winning or being taken seriously by any major music label ever, and I don’t _care_!”

Ari let her go, mostly because they were blocking a path to the stage and people were glaring at them for it. He pulled her a little out of the way and said seriously, “Alice, you don’t have anything to worry about, you were perfect!”

She grinned. “Well, I did have a little help from your boyfriend,” she said, eyes dancing mischievously.

“Alice!” Ari yelped, reflexively checking to make sure no one heard. Luckily, it was far too busy back there, the music from the stage easily covering up their conversation.

Alice rolled her eyes. “Really, Ari, pretty much anyone with eyes noticed. Well anyone with eyes who all but lived in your pocket for the better part of a month,” she corrected. “Anyways, Miles was great. I kind of blurted out that I wasn’t so sure about this whole thing- thank god no one else was in the room right then- and he looked right at me and said he’d help me out no matter what kind of song I wrote, as long as it was a good one. I mean, he might forget, or not really be able to help me, but he told me not to waste time doing something that wasn’t going to make me happy.”

Ari found the stupidest, soppiest grin he’d ever made on his face as he said, “That sounds like him. And if he doesn’t help you, I’ll kick his ass until he does. You’re amazing, Alice.”

“Oh shut up, you will not. You’re still in that disgusting honeymoon faze, there’s no way you’d hurt him,” Alice said, but she grinned back, something like relief in her eyes.

And then it was suddenly the last song of the night, the one with all of the contestants all crowded on stage together to close the thing down.

It had always been one of Ari’s favourite songs. Standing on the stage with Grayson to his left and Alice a few feet to his right, the twelve of them all singing together _I got troubled thoughts and the self-esteem to match, what a catch, what a catch_ , Ari could feel something catch in his chest, a sadly sweet feeling, nostalgia for something that didn't exist. It was a feeling that said that no matter what he’d done in his life, he was exactly where he was meant to be.

~

A week later, the morning of the second live show dawned warm and grey, the threat of rain never quite coming to fruition. It lent a particularly heavy, humid feeling of apprehension in the air, and left Ari irritably sticky by the time he made it to the stage, his jeans and t-shirt clinging to his skin uncomfortably.

“Who ordered this weather?” Alice joked as Ari stripped his gross shirt off. Luckily, he had a different outfit for on stage, but his skin still was left feeling sweaty.

“Not me,” Ari replied, shoving his hair out of his face. “What about you, Grayson?”

Grayson was hovering nearby, sporting an expression Ari had never seen him wear, one he couldn’t quite place. He didn’t look nervous… Ari had seen him nervous on set for the show. This was different.

“Are you okay?” Ari asked, stepping closer.

Grayson stumbled back out of reach, almost looking _afraid_.

“I’m fine,” he muttered and then disappeared deeper backstage.

Ari and Alice exchanged a wordless look.

“I’ll go talk to him, before sound check starts,” she said, brow furrowed with concern.

She reappeared five minutes later, but silently shook her head when Ari shot her a questioning look.

The sound check went smoothly, along with the first two thirds of the show. Grayson’s nerves or whatever his strange mood had been seemed to have faded, given he all but brought the ceiling down when he sang _Death Of A Bachelor_.

“Think he’s going to be alright?” Alice asked between pants, having just come off stage from singing _Ocean Avenue_ to an ecstatic audience.

“He’s a hell of a lot more resilient than I am,” Ari said, not really sure how to answer. “He won’t let himself do anything less than his best.”

“That’s what worries me about him sometimes,” Alice said, glancing over at Grayson, who was preparing to sing his original song once Robin, Casey, and Mia left the stage. “He’s not the sort to forgive himself if he screws up.”

Ari bit his lip, hesitating. The last thing he wanted to do was break Grayson’s concentration. But something in him was telling him he needed to say something to Grayson, wish him luck, at the very least.

He stole a quick glance over at Grayson again. For a split second, Grayson’s face was nothing but terror, before he quickly smoothed it back into his usual glower.

That did it.

“Hey,” Ari said. Grayson jumped, nearly dislodging the battery back for his mike. “Sorry,” Ari added with an apologetic smile. Grayson didn’t return it, just continued staring blankly at him. Ari forged ahead anyways, raising his voice to be heard over Casey’s rising voice coming from the stage. “Didn’t mean to scare you. Just wanted to say, you’re going to do great. You’re one of the most talented people I know, alright?”

Grayson swallowed several times, that strange expression creeping back onto his face. Finally, he said, “I didn’t want- they made me- I’m sorry.”

Before Ari could even begin to wonder at what Grayson was trying to say, Robin, Casey, and Mia all barreled off stage, cheers from the audience trailing after them. The second Ari looked away, Grayson ran on stage.

As he did so, the host shouted into his microphone, “And here’s what you’ve been waiting for, Grayson Esposito with his song, co-written with Miles Eliot, _Millennia_.”

It was like having a bucket of ice dumped over his head.

This couldn’t be happening.

Grayson was singing _Millennia_.

There was a ringing in his ears, nearly drowning out Grayson singing _I know young love is just a dream_. A distant part of Ari’s brain noted that Grayson had changed the song a little, made it more pop. Ari hated it.

How had this happened?

Someone had to have given Grayson the lyrics and chords to the song, and only one person would have easy access to it. Miles.

He wasn’t sure if he was pissed or just disappointed in himself for not expecting something like this. Maybe both.

He had no idea how long he stood there, frozen with shock. The ringing in his ears abated slightly, and Ari realized that Grayson was nearing the end of the song. And that Miles was standing a few feet away.

Ari turned on his heel and stalked off to a different part of the backstage area. He had one more song left before the end of the show, and then he was getting the hell out of there. He was tempted to just abandon things altogether, but some part of him rebelled against leaving everyone in the lurch for the final group song. He wasn’t like Grayson. Or Miles.

He had no idea how he got through the final song he was a part of, the entire thing passed in a blur of colour and noise that only receded when Ari abruptly found himself in a corner backstage, his palms sweaty and his heart racing.

There were only two songs left in the show, and the last song of the night was going to be performed by Stress In Idleness. And yet there was Miles, stalking towards him, eyes wide and face pale. Like he hadn’t known what giving their song to Grayson would do to Ari.

“Ari-” Miles started to say, hand going to touch Ari’s arm.

“I don’t know why I’m fucking surprised!” Ari snarled ripping his arm out of reach. “Really, well done you! Did you have fun watching me get all weepy over that song right before you handed it off?”

“Ari-” Miles’ eyes were wide, his pupils tiny pinpricks in a sea of dark green.

“I bet you had a good old laugh at stupid, clueless Ari, so easily led around by the nose. Just like old times, right? Say the right things, and he’ll do whatever you want!” Ari didn’t even know what the words pouring out of his mouth were, caustic even to his own ears. It was like he’d opened up an old wound he hadn’t even known he’d had, the vitriol spewing out of him like pus.

Miles seemed to reach his breaking point and snarled back, “I didn’t do any of that! You’re the one who damn well followed me here! We aren’t teenagers anymore, Arial, _get over it_.”

“How about you just go blow your new buddy, Grayson instead?!” Ari snapped, definitely too loud for a space right next to a stage full of microphones. He couldn’t bring himself to care.

“At least I know he won’t run away, like you do whenever you have to deal with having _feelings_ , or anything!” Miles shouted back. They’d attracted a trio of TSP minions, all fluttering anxiously in the background, too cowed to actually intervene.

“Maybe you should have just stopped making me need to!” Ari snapped, anger twisting more in the directions of tears and heart-crushing misery- and that was it he wasn’t crying in front of a dozen odd people, much less Miles.

Ari stormed off to get his shit and get the hell out of there, Miles tellingly quiet behind him. He didn’t even try and stop Ari from leaving.

From the stage, Ari could hear Robin singing _Lying is The Most Fun_ and the irony of the line _then think of what you did, and how I hope to God he was worth it_ was so poignant it was almost enough to make Ari want to be sick. It was like the entire universe was trolling him.

 _“Oh, now I do recall, we were just getting to the part, where the shock sets in, and the stomach acid finds a new way to make you get sick._ ”

A laugh got lodged in his throat and came out as a hitching sob he barely managed to stifle, slapping a hand over his mouth as his eyes began to sting.

Clearly, that was exactly what he needed most in that moment. Because his entire life was a joke at that point.

The backstage area wasn’t as crowded as it had been earlier. It was easy enough to find a side door and slip out into the back alley, Robin’s voice chasing after him: “ _I hope you didn't expect to get all of the attention. Now let's not get selfish, did you really think I'd let you kill this chorus?_ ”

~

The next day, Ari allowed himself exactly three hours to sulk in his misery over his situation before he seriously sat down to decide what to do.

He’d signed a contract, he couldn’t _not_ sing a song at the final live show- he’d not only look like an idiot and a coward in front of millions of people, but he’d also be sued within an inch of his life.

He knew the producers had to be involved somehow, they couldn’t have not known Grayson was going to sing Ari’s song. But what were they expecting Ari to do? They couldn’t want Ari to not do anything, it would only make them and their stupid show look bad.

The answer came in the form of a sharply dressed woman with a thin file appearing at his front door.

As he let her into his slightly messy apartment, Ari was too exhausted to feel anything other than faintly embarrassed at being unshowered and in his pajamas at three in the afternoon.

In a surprise that didn’t shock Ari in the slightest, there had been executive meddling in Grayson’s song choice the previous night. Ari was starting to develop a serious phobia to crisp suits and stiletto heels, given the bullshit that seemed to inevitably precede them.

“I’m terribly sorry about the position you’ve been put in,” the woman, who’d introduced herself as Ms. Fujiwara, said. “There has been a great deal of dissent behind the scenes, and you’ve suffered for it. This is the song you’re expected to sing on Friday. You were meant to have been given it weeks ago, but differing opinions prevented us from doing so until now.”

Ari flipped the file open and scanned over the lyrics and chords he found in it.

It was total garbage. Even seventeen-year-old Ari at his very most artistically bankrupt could have done better.

“You have got to be joking,” Ari said blankly, staring at Ms. Fujiwara.

She looked a bit embarrassed, but gamely said, “I’m afraid not, Mr. Brown.”

“What if I tell everyone you stole my song and gave it to Grayson?” Ari demanded, his blood starting to boil. He wasn’t just angry about the theft, and he was plenty angry about that, he was pissed that they’d taken _that_ song, the one Miles had sung that precious morning. The song that Miles and Ari had written as children, and then had written again so many years later, after nearly a decade apart. They’d taken one look at it and decided that none of that mattered and had handed it over without hesitation.

Ms. Fujiwara still looked a little embarrassed even as she said, “I really wouldn’t advise that, Mr. Brown. It’s a fight you’d never win. And really, who’d believe you?”

With that, she made for the door, her sensible heels clacking smartly against the hardwood floor. In the doorway, she paused, looking back at him and said, eyes softer, “But on a personal note, I sincerely apologize that this has happened to you.”

Before he could say a thing, she was gone.

Leaving Ari with a churning gut full of frustration and rage and a useless song.

He glanced down at the file. The childishly inane lyrics mocked him silently from the page.

Fuck that.

Even if the producers had decided that Grayson was going to win (using _Ari’s_ fucking song), Ari wasn’t going to sing that shit on stage and let the world think it was something he’d made.

He’d just have to write an entirely new song. In six days. Right, that was feasible.

~

He was at least showered, if not completely lacking inspiration, when there was another knock on his door two hours later.

Outside, Grayson stood in his hallway, shoulders hunched up high and his eyes rimmed red.

“Fuck off,” Ari said and made to slam the door shut. Legally speaking, an actual adult punching a not-quite-adult would look bad, and the last thing Ari was going to put up with was being sued over something only tangentially related to all this song bullshit.

“Please! Wait!” Grayson said and then took advantage of Ari’s split-second hesitation to shove his heavily booted foot between the door and the door jam. “Just let me explain.”

Ari relinquished the door and crossed his arms. “I think understand the situation pretty fucking clearly already, thanks.”

“It wasn’t Miles idea!” Grayson shouted, making Ari reconsider having this conversation partly in the hallway. He sighed and let the kid come into his apartment and sat down on the good chair, making Grayson take the more questionable, wobbly one. He wasn’t _that_ altruistic.

“Fine. You get one minute before I toss your ass out,” Ari said, voice curt. “Thanks to you, I’m busy trying to find a way to turn _that_ trash into something that isn’t complete garbage,” he added, gesturing to the discarded folder Ms. Fujiwara had brought him.

Grayson’s eyes flicked towards it, his expression only growing guiltier. If Ari was a better person, he might have started to feel a little bad at that point. Since he wasn’t, he only felt a sliver of vindictive pleasure.

“This whole thing had nothing to do with Miles,” Grayson repeated. “He didn’t know about it. I didn’t want to, but my song was turning out to be awful, no matter how hard I tried,” he said, gesturing to the folder. “One of the producers told me that they had already decided that I was going to win, but they couldn’t justify that if I didn’t have a good song. They said I could use your song or sing nothing at all.”

“So, they gave you mine,” Ari said sharply.

“Yeah. The private rehearsals aren’t unmonitored, it was easy for them to get their hands on it,” Grayson said. “The executives didn’t all agree on doing this, so they couldn’t get a ghost writer to make me a song without the wrong people finding out. That’s why they thought your song would be easiest.”

“And you were _okay_ with that?” Ari snapped, his temper flaring. “That song was _mine and Miles’_. I’ll never be able to sing it ever again without someone thinking you made it. You _heard_ those lyrics, that wasn’t something I just pulled out of my ass! This isn’t something you can undo, Grayson.”

“I’m sorry!” Grayson said, and started to tear up. “I didn’t want to! But if I don’t win, leaving my band and my best friends behind will have been pointless! I have to win!”

Ari couldn’t deal with feeling even a little bit sorry for Grayson. He stood up, not looking at the kid. “Get out, Grayson.”

He heard the sound of Grayson getting up and crossing the room, and then he heard Grayson say, voice soft, “I’m going to fix this, Arial.” And then the door shut.

Ari wanted to laugh. What was left to fix?

~

Ari was deep in stage ‘lay on the floor in despair’ of song writing when someone knocked on his door again.

Ari sincerely planned on not answering and pretending he’d just died or something, when he heard Felix shout, “Ari, quit being a drama queen and open the door before someone gets a photo of me and emails it to the paps.”

Curiosity over why Felix was outside his apartment was enough to lever Ari off the floor and let Felix in.

“So, I was trying to figure out why that song Grayson sang yesterday sounded familiar, when he showed up at my house and explained everything while sniffling pathetically,” Felix explained breezily. “That ballsless motherfucker. Or maybe it’s ballsy, coming to me after all this. I can’t decide which.”

Ari was torn between laughing and crying and settled on doing both and let Felix haul him in for a hug.

“Felix, everything is terrible,” he whined into Felix’s shoulder and unashamedly clung harder.

“Yeah, but I’m here to make things a little less shitty,” Felix said. “I stole a bunch of Miles’ notes from when the three of us were in high school, and I saw one song that wasn’t completely useless that we might be able to polish up in a week. But we’ll probably need to find someone who knows how percussion works, since Kat’s told me my technique of ‘hit the thing in the middle real hard a whole bunch’ isn’t any good.”

Reluctantly, Ari let go and said, “Well, I might know a guy.”

~

Predictably, Baby Simon all but shit a brick when he found out that Felix Fitzroy wanted his help with writing a song.

Five minutes after he’d stopped acting like a twelve-year-old fan, they were getting along like a house on fire and were acting like lifelong friends and Ari was regretting every decision he’d ever made to bring him to this point in his life because they were _teaming up_ on him. While Ari was having a crisis because he’d shouted at Miles over something that wasn’t his fault and now Ari didn’t know what to do other than keep going forward. If he’d just _thought_ about it for more than a few seconds it would have been obvious that Miles had known nothing about it.

So really, Felix and Baby Simon picking on him while he was thinking about all that was really kicking a man while he was already down.

“Look, I’m just saying if you cut your hair more often than once a year-” Felix was saying while Baby Simon nodded emphatically behind him.

“Don’t we have a song to write?” Ari asked despairingly.

“Fine,” Baby Simon said, rolling his eyes. “But I’d like it noted for the record that you are no fun.”

“Noted,” Ari grumbled, and pulled the papers Felix had brought closer to him.

They had a lot of work to do.

~

Ari arrived at the final live show feeling exhausted yet accomplished. Then he spotted both Grayson and Miles.

He was nowhere near prepared to deal with either of them _and_ sing a song by himself in front a hell of a lot of people, so he dodged both of them and hunted down Alice.

“You disappeared last week!” She scolded him even as she dragged him in for a bone-crushing. “What happened? I was worried1”

“Sorry,” Ari apologized sheepishly. He had kind of been a bit of a drama queen the previous week- entirely justifiably so, he figured, but he could have at least waved good bye to Alice.

“Don’t do it again,” Alice said, and then seemed to notice the intense looks Miles and Grayson were both shooting Ari and raised an eyebrow at him and added, “You look terrible, have you not been sleeping since the last show?

“I really don’t want to talk about it,” Ari said, hoping she’d let him get away with only saying that much.

Alice shrugged and said, “Alright. Manly emotional repression it is. Just don’t let it affect your performance tonight.”

“Thanks, Alice. And I won’t,” he promised.

And it didn’t. The show went even better than the previous weeks, everyone mostly used to things by then, rushing on and off stage with enormous grins. Ari sang his heart out whenever he was on stage, and dodged Miles and Grayson whenever he was off it, with a little help from Alice running interference.

And then it was time.

Ari squared his shoulders and marched on stage.

The lights blinded him, but he kept his chin up, feeling a funny little smile spread across his face. Even with all the shit surrounding its creation, he was pretty happy with the song he’d manage to come up with in the span of a week, thanks to help from Felix and Baby Simon. He was excited to sing it.

“Hey everyone, this song is about growing up,” he said, inwardly jumping at how loud his voice sounded coming out of those speakers. “Hope you all like it as much as I do.”

“ _In the night, the beat city light. We steal ourselves away and hold on tight_ ,” he sang, confidence building with each word. “ _You were there, yeah, we were all there. Too young, too smart, too much for this one town_.”

He couldn’t hear the crowd, had no idea if they liked the song or if he was making a total fool of himself- all he could hear was his voice, the music Felix had helped him make backing him up. He launched himself into the final verse with a joy that almost made his chest hurt, “ _Take me back, down a dirty road. Where it went, we didn't care to know. A glory night is a story saved. Mark the chapter, but turn the page_ ,” he sang, lungs starting to burn along with his eyes. “ _Always keep, to kids in the street, when we were kids in the street, just kids in the street_.”

The song ended, and he nearly stumbled back when he suddenly could hear properly, sort of. There was a roaring sound- which Ari belatedly realized was a crowd cheering for _him_.

Alice came on stage, grinning at him, followed by the host, who was subtly motioning for Ari to get off the stage, as scripted.

Before Ari could get off stage so Alice could sing _Ocean Avenue_ , Grayson darted on stage, shooting Ari a nervous smile over his shoulder.

“I have something to say,” Grayson said, his voice shaking a little. Ari froze on the spot, staring. What the hell was the kid doing? “About _Millennia_ , the song I performed at the end of the last show.” His face was sweaty but set, twisted up like he was marching to his death.

He was about to announce live on TV that he’d cheated, Ari realized with a shock. This kid was about to ruin his chance of ever having a career in the music industry, just because he felt bad about being forced to cheat. And because Ari had yelled at him, told him it was only his fault.

The thing was, life wasn’t fair. And it felt just as wrong to make a kid ruin his life over one song Ari had helped write as a clueless kid.

“The truth is—”

“It was a team effort,” Ari said loudly and snatched the microphone out of Alice’s hands, stalking across the stage. He flung an arm across Grayson’s thin shoulders and slapped a smile he didn’t feel on his face. “I helped Grayson a little with writing his song.”

Grayson stared at him like he was completely insane- something Ari was seriously wondering himself.

“I think we’re both really proud of it,” Ari concluded, grinning wildly and squeezing Grayson’s shoulder hard, until the kid jumped, getting a clue.

“I- I wouldn’t feel right singing it again, it’s really Ari’s and Miles’ song,” Grayson added, widening his eyes and purposefully making his face look younger than its eighteen years.

“You did a pretty good job with it, kiddo,” Ari said, shaking him gently and winking at the audience, gaining a confused mix of laughter from them.

“-that’s really incredible,” The host said, seeming to scramble to find words, like he had no idea what to do with things so far off script. “You are both amazing artists. Sadly, though, we can only have one winner of this season’s _The Star Project_. While the band discusses things, here’s our favourite girl from wonderland, Alice, singing _Ocean Avenue_!”

The host grabbed Grayson and Ari and hauled them off the stage, somehow making it look casual and not like he had a death grip on both of them, his fingernails digging in harshly to Ari’s skin.

“What the hell was that?” Grayson snapped at Ari the second they were out of sight from the audience. “I was trying to fix things, you colossal asshole!” His face was turning red, and Ari could tell he was more upset than he was angry.

“I’m not going to let you ruin your entire career over a single song you didn’t even want to sing, Grayson,” Ari said gently, lips twitching into a soft smile. It was strange to feel this way- he’d been so angry, but mostly so resigned and anguished when he’d thought Miles had sold him out. But it was impossible to keep that up. Grayson was a kid. He’d been in a shitty situation with only one shot at getting out of it. Ari couldn’t stay angry at him for that.

“If either of you go off script like that again, neither of you will live to regret it,” the host snapped, looking set to murder both of them. “Got it?”

They both nodded contritely, neither feeling particularly sorry and allowed one of the minions in a TSP STAFF t-shirt to hustle them out of the way, the host shooting them aggravated glares every few seconds.

“Why did you do that? It was your and Miles’ song,” Grayson said quietly, eyebrows crunched up in confusion, looking like such a teenager that Ari’s heart clenched. He’d been a real asshole to this kid. He was only eighteen, a bare year older than Ari had been when he’d written the damn song. Of course he was going to make profoundly stupid decisions. “My name’s always going to be stuck to it, forever. It’s going to be a real hit, and it’ll never really be just yours.”

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. I might not be happy about how things happened, but… It’s just a song, Grayson,” Ari said. “I have Miles, I don’t care about the song.” He paused, considered that, and then corrected himself, “Okay, I care a little. But I couldn’t let you throw your entire career in the garbage over it. It’s not worth that much. Especially since you’d get disqualified, when it wasn’t your choice in the first place.”

“I don’t really want to win, anyways,” Grayson said, mostly to the ground, barely loud enough to be heard.

“What?” Ari demanded, not believing his ears. _Grayson_ , the most competitive little shit Ari had ever encountered, no longer wanted to win? He couldn’t have heard that right.

“I talked to my friends, like you told me to, after I went to your apartment,” Grayson explained, a faint blush appearing on his cheeks, still not looking up from the floor. “They were all still pissed at me, but they missed me too.” He finally looked up, a small, unexpectedly sweet smile on his face. “And I realized, I don’t want to be making music without them. Stress In Idleness is great, but they aren’t _my_ band. So, I don’t want to win, even if it means I’ll never play a gig bigger than a show in a bookstore or bowling alley or something,” Grayson concluded calmly, like this didn’t counteract nearly every single thing he’d ever said in front of Ari since the day they’d met on set.

“You’re insane,” Ari said blankly. “You aren’t Grayson, you replaced him with a pod person. What did you do with him?”

“Shut up!” Grayson grumbled, looking embarrassed, his face brilliant red by that point. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

 _They aren’t my band_. Ari replayed the words in his head, something resonating with him deeply.

“Guess I’m the only one out of the three of us that wants in the band,” Ari said with a humour he didn’t feel. “Too bad it’s too late to tell Miles I didn’t mean what I said.”

“Who exactly told me it was never too late to talk to my friends?” Grayson asked sharply, crossing his arms and looking wholly unamused.

“What?” Ari said, something blooming in his chest- maybe hope?

“If you don’t talk to him, you’ll regret it. Trust me,” Grayson said, parroting Ari’s words from over a month previous, eyes deadly serious.

“I have to go,” Ari said, eyes widening, his breath catching in his throat. He had to act in that very second, before he lost his nerve. It was like that afternoon where he’d stood outside Miles’ door and decided to knock. If he didn’t do something right then, he’d never end up doing it and spend the rest of his life running away.

“I didn’t mean right now!” Grayson said, eyes going wide. “We go on in, like, thirty seconds!”

Ari waved this off, looking around wildly. He needed to find Miles, needed to talk to him right that second. He was done running.

“Cover for me, I don’t care, I’ll be right back,” Ari said and then spotted Felix by one of the side doors and dashed after him.

“Felix!” Ari said, a little too loudly, a dozen minions in headsets shooting him irritated looks and shushing him. “I need to see him, right now. Where is he?”

Felix jumped, nearly dropping his bottle of water. “Ari! Jesus! You scared the crap out of me! What’s wrong?” he added, taking in Ari’s wild expression.

“Miles- I need, I have to tell him something, I said something really awful to him, and I didn’t mean it but _he_ doesn’t know that and-” Ari said, the words all coming out in a confused, jumbled mess. “I don’t care if they’re pretending to vote or whatever- I need to talk to him right away.”

Felix’s kohl-lined eyes widened and he held up his hands placatingly, “Woah, okay, cool it. I’ll help you, just calm down, alright? You look like you’re about to pop a blood vessel.”

Felix grabbed him by the arm and pulled him down a hallway. One of the doors to the rooms leading off of the hallway was open a crack, Miles’ voice floating out of it, voice raised. Hovering just outside were Kat and Jamie, wearing twin expressions of grim resignation.

“Corporate jackasses are in there,” Kat said, gesturing at the door. “Miles told us to get out and not suffer their idiocy around the time they started in with some seriously sexist shit.”

“And racist,” Jamie added with a dark look aimed at the door.

“I’ll go in and grab him, make up some excuse-” Felix started to say but was interrupted by the sound of Miles voice rising even louder.

“I don’t give a damn about the contract!” he shouted. “We went along with this damn farce of a show, let you decide who won and who lost every step of the way, but this is _my_ fucking band and I won’t let you decide who’s going to be in it!”

Ari came to a halt, just outside the door, exchanging a wide-eyed look with Felix.

“Miles, be reasonable-” another voice said, much more quietly, sounding equal parts placating and patronizing.

“I’m not being unreasonable!” Miles yelled back. “Arial Brown is the best damn musician that was on this show and he’s the only one I want in my band!”

Ari stumbled sideways, legs going weak and accidentally smacked the door with his elbow. It swung open with more force than it should have, slamming into the wall behind it. Miles and several men in suits turned and stared at Felix and Ari in the doorway, almost comical in how startled they looked. No one moved an inch.

“Ari,” Miles breathed, stumbling forward a step, hands reaching out to him.

Ari tumbled into his arms, clinging harder than he had, even on that first night in Miles’ car.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean any of it,” Ari babbled into his shoulder. “I want to be in your band, I know you didn’t give the song to Grayson. I’m so sorry.”

“I know. I’m so sorry too, I didn’t mean what I said,” Miles said and pulled away, but left his arms loosely draped around Ari’s shoulders. “This isn’t up for discussion,” he said over his shoulder and left the room, pulling Ari with him. “Ari is the winner.”

“What he said,” Felix said from the doorway, following in their footsteps.

“Ditto,” Jamie said, echoed by Kat, who sneered at them as they left.

They headed back to the stage area, holding hands, where Grayson was wringing his hands, looking like he was seconds away from losing his shit.

“Ari!” he snapped, obviously worried and trying to hide it with anger. “We have to go on, _now_.”

Ari nodded agreeably, feeling a sudden, deep sense of calm flood over him. Everything was going to be alright.

He turned to face Miles and leant up and kissed him on the cheek. “I love you,” he whispered and stepped away, feeling a little bit delighted at the floored look on Miles’ face.

“Gotta go, see you on stage,” he added, while Miles was still fumbling for words and booked it on stage following Grayson and Alice as the opening notes to _Some Nights_ stated to play.

He grinned, his heart feeling light as a feather as he sang out the words, “ _Man, you wouldn't believe the most amazing things that can come from... Some terrible nights_.”

The three of them raced through the song, all smiles, Alice delicately singing the verses, Grayson all but bringing the roof down with his soaring voice. When the final note faded, the audience was deafening with applause. Alice hauled them in for a group hug, “I don’t give a shit who wins, we’ve done good,” she whispered in Ari’s ear and Grayson clung to both of them a little harder.

“You’re both amazing,” Ari said, his heart feeling so full of so many emotions, high on adrenaline and music.

“We all are,” Grayson said with a smirk that couldn’t quite stop from slipping into a heartfelt smile, his eyes crinkling up.

All of the other contestants filed onstage, the audience shouting out the names of their favourites, as they lined up behind Ari, Grayson and Alice. The host came out, smiling widely, though Ari could tell how done with their unscripted shit he was as he subtly herded the three of them to their appointed place on stage. Stubbornly, Alice refused to let go of either of them, all beaming smiles when the host shot her a split-second glare.

“Those were some incredible performances, am I right?” the host said, smiling when the audience roared back. “It’s all been so great! But we can only have one winner tonight! So, without further ado, here’s Stress In Idleness!”

The band strolled out from the wings, the applause deafening.

“I just want to say how impressed I was with all of your songs,” Miles said seriously. “Alice, you have an incredible stage presence and working with you was a real delight. You are just so talented, and it was an honor to write a song with you. No matter what happens, I know you have an incredible future with music in your future.” Alice’s hand squeezed Ari’s, her eyes going misty, and she whispered, almost too soft for the microphone to catch, “Thank you.”

“Grayson, you have a really outstanding voice, and more importantly, you know how to use it properly,” Miles continued. “That’s not something that can be taught, it’s really impressive. I am always just so blown away by what you’re capable of despite your age, since I know you’re only going to grow in talent as you get older.” Grayson nodded, looking almost star struck.

Miles paused, eyes landing on Ari, making his heart fill with how full of love that look was. “Ari… I don’t have words for how much I’ve enjoyed working with you again.” He seemed to lose his words for a moment, before rallying and collecting himself, his smile turning into something more meant for the public rather than Ari alone. He turned to face the crowd. “But there can only be one winner tonight, am I right?” He smiled and paused, letting the audience shout back. “I won’t drag this out any longer. The three of you are all so talented, but to be honest there was no question which of you all of us wanted to join the band- congratulations to the newest star, Arial Brown!”

Even though he’d already known, the words made Ari’s legs go weak and his eyes teared up a little.

“Oh my god,” he heard his own voice say over the speakers. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“Congratulations!” Alice shouted, eyes glistening and a grin splitting across her face. She tackled him into a hug and hauled Grayson along with her, who didn’t even try to get away.

“I think we have time for one last song,” Miles said, ignoring the look the host shot him. Something else that hadn’t been scripted. “Everyone sing along if you know the words!” He turned and accepted a guitar from a TSP minion.

All of the other contestants crowded closer, Casey slapping a congratulatory hand on his back as Miles started to play a few familiar notes, and they all sang together.

It was the perfect feeling, Ari was just so _happy_ and he wanted to freeze the moment in time, never leave it.

The song was a mess, with far too many people singing and the audience shouting the words along with them and only Miles’ guitar playing the tune, but it was perfect and Ari could barely get the words out for how widely he was smiling.

It was chaos getting off stage, with contestants, the band, and tech people everywhere in the tiny space. Somehow, though, Miles managed to squeeze in next to Ari.

“I love you too,” he said, barely audible above the noise. He brushed a hand over Ari’s cheek, looking hesitant, but Ari just hauled him down for a kiss without hesitation.

“Get it, buddy!” Casey whooped loudly, followed by catcalls from Robin and Alice, Grayson making a disgusted noise right in Ari’s ear due to the crowded space.

Ari laughed, even as he and Miles parted, pressing their foreheads together.

Everything was going to be just fine.

~

_Six months later_

“How are you the worst?” Ari whined, setting his guitar down carefully and flopping backwards with a much less care. “I think my hands are going to fall off if you make me play this song one more time.”

“The chorus isn’t fast enough,” Miles insisted, for what had to be the hundredth time.

“Oh, give it a rest, Miles,” Jamie said and tossed a water bottle at his head. “Ari’s doing great, it doesn’t sound like it did with Monroe, but that’s the _point_.”

Ari shot Jamie a weary smile and got a nod in return. The band had been slower to adjust to him being their new member than Miles had, but they’d been vocal that they’d been part of the decision to pick Ari over Grayson from the first practice Ari’d had with them. Joining the band had been a lot more complicated than Ari had expected, having to work things out with his old job at POP records and having to sign a contract with the band and _their_ people, but it was worth it.

“I suppose you’ll do,” Miles said with exaggerated weariness, leaning over to brush a kiss on Ari’s forehead. They’d been open about their relationship with the band from the start- they’d needed to, given the kiss they’d shared the second they’d gotten off stage, but by some miracle their relationship hadn’t been leaked to the press by any of the other competitors or the staff. Ari had been all for full disclosure, but Miles had pointed out that the last thing they wanted was anyone accusing Ari of screwing his way into first place, on top of those who’d thought Grayson should have won. They’d announce it later, once things had settled down- after Felix stirred up a storm with his engagement announcement,

“Less canoodling, more practice,” Kat said, rolling her eyes, but a smile twitched at the corners of her mouth belayed her words. “Alice and the rest will be here in an hour, we need to get through the rest of this.”

Less than a week after Ari had won _The Star Project_ , Miles had strong-armed the necessary people into signing Grayson’s fledgling band as their opening act for Stress In Idleness’s next tour. When he’d gotten the news, Ari swore the kid had cried, though Grayson was adamant that his contact lens had just been making him tear up. Ari was fairly certain the kid didn’t even wear contacts.

Alice, on the other hand, Miles had introduced to every single person in the music industry who owed him a favor, doing everything he could to help her launch her career into the big leagues. Within weeks, the albums she’d released prior to _The Star Project_ were generating all sorts of buzz, and everyone was asking her what she’d be doing next. She’d been so busy Ari had scarcely seen her, with so many people trying to monopolize her time. But she’d still taken a few evenings off to hang out with Ari, and had written a few songs with him, which they were going to polish up that day once she arrived.

Miles pressed another kiss to Ari’s temple, grinning goofily.

“I retract my previous statement, you are not the absolute worst,” Ari said, a stupid smile on his face. He couldn’t get over how happy the simplest thing Miles did could make him. It was getting pretty embarrassing that a single look could make him smile for a solid hour. It had nearly been six months since the end of _The Star Project_ and they were still so disgustingly sweet that Baby Simon had taken to throwing things at Ari any time he even mentioned Miles.

With a groan, he sat up and picked his guitar back up. “Remind me never to try and master a band’s entire discography ever again, it’s killing my wrists,” he said, flexing his fingers.

“You’ll never need to, if I have any say in it,” Miles said and sat next to him, close enough to be more of a hindrance to Ari playing than anything.

“Oh, go pose for a tabloid or something, some of us have to get ready for a tour about to start,” Ari said with an exaggerated roll of his eyes.

“Nah, we have a song to practice,” Miles said with a crooked smile. “One of your favourites, the one I sang for you.”

“Take it away” Ari said, unable to stop another stupid smile from sneaking up on him. Even if Grayson’s name was still attached to the song, listed as a cowriter along with Miles and Ari, he’d always have a special place in his heart for _Millennia_.

Miles scooted backwards out of Ari’s space and took a deep breath. “ _Beverly hills, that’s where I-_ urk-” he cut off by Ari slapping an aggrieved hand over his mouth.

In that moment, Alice stuck her head in through the door, positively glowing.

“Not interrupting anything am I, boys?” she asked with a cheery grin. “I know I’m early, I can come back if you’re actually busy.”

“Hardly,” Kat said, rolling her eyes. “It’s amazing we’ve managed to get anything done at all with these two being so disgustingly cute all over the place.”

“Great!” Alice said and all but bounced in, taking a seat across from Ari and Miles. She looked like she was about to vibrate out of her chair in excitement.

“So, I could be wrong, but I’m guessing you have some good news?” Ari asked with a good-natured smile.

“Guess who’s signed a major record deal?” Alice asked.

“Would I be completely wrong to think it might be you?” Ari asked, grinning and leapt to his feet to give her a hug.

Alice nodded and bounced back to her feet, saying, “I’m just so excited, it’s absolutely insane! I keep thinking I’m going to wake up and realize this was all a really elaborate, strange dream.”

“No way, you totally deserve this, I’m so excited for you!” Ari said, shaking her gently by the shoulders. “Besides, I doubt you could make up _Grayson_.”

Alice snickered. “You might be right there.”

“Congrats, Alice,” Miles said, getting up to pat her on the shoulder.

Ari smiled and hummed _Millennia_ under his breath as everyone got set up to work on their song with Alice.

 _I only ever wanted to come home,_  
Please won't you let me go?  
When I have nowhere left I can run away,  
Will you lie to me, tell me I'll be okay?

His smile widened, even as he picked his guitar back up. He didn’t need anyone to lie to him. He was more than okay; he was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs used this chapter:  
> What I Like About You- The Romantics  
> Stupid For You- Waterparks  
> With You Around- Yellowcard  
> Pack Up (acoustic)- Eliza Doolittle  
> What a Catch, Donnie – Fall Out Boy  
> Suicide Sunday- Friday Night Boys  
> Lying Is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off- Panic! At The Disco  
> Kids In The Street- All American Rejects 
> 
> Believe it or not, this story was meant to be a challenge to myself to write something simple and only 20K long. Obviously, that… didn’t really happen. I had so much fun writing this and listening to my favourite music, so I’d seriously appreciate any reviews, even if it’s just a ‘hey I liked the thing’, this story really is close to my heart. As always, you can find all the music in an [8tracks](https://8tracks.com/ladyfnick/young-love-is-just-a-dream) playlist (sadly missing one song due to 8tracks dumb rules). Thank you all so much for reading!


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